


Under the Boardwalk

by bookwormally



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, Character tags updated as they appear, Main ships are tagged, Multi, are you ready for all my niche headcanons and family relationships?, will include isalea and the radiant gardads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 01:59:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 46,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormally/pseuds/bookwormally
Summary: The Eclipse Bakery is known for three things: amazing baked goods, local artwork, and its staff which feels more like a family.Vanitas has just been hired as a new baking assistant. In a small beach town, rumors abound about where he's come from when he'd just like to keep his head down. Familiar faces keep cropping up though and despite everything, he's drawn in with more than just a paycheck.Demyx is looking for someone to listen to him. He expected an audience for his music and ends up with something much closer to what he’s always wanted.Found family and the bakery & flower shop AU I've always wanted to write.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm back and this time with something entirely different!
> 
> Inspiration for this definitely comes from 'Bloom' by Kevin Panetta & Savanna Ganucheau, 'Check, Please!' by Ngozi Ukazu, Stardew Valley by ConcernedApe, and all the warm feelings that a good treat can bring to a day.
> 
> There's going to a full cast for this one, a lot of slice of life, and plenty of family love and support. I hope you enjoy it!

It turns into a debate that night as they sit at the counter and watch Isa count down the drawer.

Roxas is adamant, peeling apart an orange. “I know I saw him first. I was heading out for the early deliveries and he was sitting on that bench watching the beach.” He points with an orange slice at the blue bench situated right outside the door.

Xion shakes her head. “You’re barely awake when you leave! It could have been anyone with black hair.” Her fingers tap the counter. “I was right here at seven am when he walked in. And I know it was him because I was actually awake.”

“Thanks to the magic of coffee.” Naminé adds a little crab to the board in her lap. “Axel’s the only morning person on staff.”

“If you count not sleeping as being a morning person, sure.” Axel tosses the leftover rolls into bags. “Why does this matter again?”

Roxas shrugs and shoves an orange slice into his mouth. “Because it’s been forever since you hired someone new _and_ it’s someone none of us know. Nobody new ever moves here, not at his age.”

“He’s a _mystery_ ,” Xion whispers dramatically.

“Oh god, don’t say that where Pence can hear.” Olette offers Naminé a new piece of chalk. “I’m not getting roped into another stalkerish investigation.”

Isa taps the bills into a neat stack. “We have legal channels for background checks. We don’t need an amateur investigator.” He closes the drawer with a _ding_ and tucks the stack into a pouch as he walks into the back.

Axel shakes his head. “We don’t need a background check. This is a bakery, not a bank. He came in, I interviewed him, and he’ll be back tomorrow. It’s not complicated, stop making it weird.”

The teens at the counter all trade a look. Roxas shakes his head and eats the rest of his orange. “Bet I see him first tomorrow.”

“No way. I open tomorrow and I’ll be right at the door!” Olette reaches around Naminé to punch him in the shoulder.

Axel sighs and ties off the bags for each of them. It’s probably for the best that he told his new assistant to report an hour before they open. Maybe he won’t know his whole staff is nosy for a whole day. The kid had seemed like the type to leave without looking back if put under too much scrutiny. _Well Vanitas, you’ll have to deal with it eventually._

He straightens up and tosses a bag at each of their heads. “Alright, everybody out. Go be obnoxious teens somewhere else!”

Laughing at him, his staff gathers their things and heads out. The bell jingles behind them, ending the day, as always, with music.

* * *

Port Matahari is known for three things: a number of beautiful beaches, its fresh food, both produce and fish, and its shrinking shipping port. The beaches are carefully protected by locals, the food shared gladly with neighbors, friends, and guests alike, and the industry is mostly left undiscussed.

It’s a beautiful town, homes painted in subtle pastels that cover the breadth of the rainbow. Wind chimes are common, adding their tinkling to the air, and the breeze carries the scents of hundreds of blooming plants. It’s the type of place tourists want captured on a card, a paradise they cling to as they return to their homes and their day to day. A bit of magic, they think to themselves as the card fades under their fingertips.

To the residents, it’s home. Where everyone knows everyone and the best places on the island are well hidden from tourists to save some of the magic for themselves.

As the sky just begins to turn grey, a hint of dawn to come, none of these things are on one new resident’s mind. He slips out the door, carefully easing it shut behind him. It likes to slam in the constant breeze from the sea and he’s not going to wake anyone else in the house. His half-brother sleeps like the dead, but his mom would wake up and she needs her damn sleep.

Only when he hears the door latch does he let go and exhale. He twists his key in the lock and then creeps down the worn stairs. They creak too and even that feels like too much noise this early in the morning. Half the windows are open to let in the sounds and smells of the sea. He glances up at them, but no lights come on and he can head down the street.

Vanitas shoves his hands in his pockets and hunches into his coat. The breeze off the ocean is brisk, chilling the tip of his nose. The sooner the sun rises, the sooner it’ll warm up, but he actually likes this early- _early_ chill. It’s just him and the ocean and the empty street. Nobody to talk at him, nobody to look at him, eyes narrowing in just that way that always puts his hackles up. No, he’s not local, he’s not the one you’re thinking of. _Fuck off._

But he’s supposed to pull back on the swearing at the neighbors, so he’s getting out of here before even the earliest risers are up.

The boardwalk steps thump under his feet and he squints as the wind picks up. The waves are dark blue past the beach, curling over themselves before they reach the sand. He walks to the rail and leans on it, letting the chill and the quiet wrap around him. The water continues its push and pull as he shoves a piece of gum in his mouth. It’s the perfect crack of dawn time for a smoke, but coming to his mom’s meant _rules_ and he won’t break them, not when it’d mean losing this last chance.

Vanitas blows a breath out and imagines the trail of smoke it could have. He tries to content himself with it and watching color slowly bleed into the sky. Pink has just begun to appear when his phone buzzes. He sighs as he turns off the alarm and turns to face his newest possible bad choice.

The bakery is positioned right by the stairs, the perfect location to tempt those heading for an early morning on the beach or the ones leaving for the day. It’s painted a pastel yellow with a white shingled roof that just screams _pleasant._ Vanitas is trying not to hold it against them. The sign above the door declares the place to be the _Eclipse Bakery_ with a small motto below it: _Get your hot cross burns here._ It has to be some kind of spelling mistake; the sign looks handmade. A crescent moon has taken the place of ‘c.’

He shoves his gum in the trash and then circles around the building to the side door. His knocking feels too loud and he glances over his shoulder. _Paranoid_ , he thinks. _Who would care?_

It’s a victory when he doesn’t jump at the lock coming undone. The door opens and light falls over him before someone leans into the gap. The man who interviewed him yesterday, Axel, blinks at him, confusion all over his face, and Vanitas _knew_ this was a stupid idea. He should just go and find an actual dead-end job that he deserves. He opens his mouth to make some excuse, but Axel snaps his fingers.

“Vanitas! Shit, morning. I’m definitely like an hour from a crash so my brain is running at exactly point two percent.” Axel holds the door open wider and waves him in. “After how much the kids were talking about you last night, you’d think I’d remember better that you were coming in today. Nope, Isa has all of the damn braincells in this business.”

They were talking about him, great. Thank fuck he’s not going to be dealing with them regularly. He’ll stay in the kitchen and let them stay at the counter. Vanitas tugs his left sleeve a bit lower and steps inside. It already smells amazing in here and he breathes in deeper automatically. 

Axel notices somehow and grins. “Got some stuff already in the oven since I’ll hopefully be unconscious for a couple hours. I’m going to show you the basics I do every day, all the damn time, and see how you’re feeling. Promise I’m not too particular, but please, put things away. Guess a tour first would make sense.”

This is already all over the place, a complete difference from any type of education he’s had before. Vanitas nods and gestures to himself. “You have a place for my jacket?”

“Oh yeah, of course. You can hang it up in the office. Only one who goes in there regularly is Isa and he’s cleaner than god.” Axel opens the first door they reach. “Staff bathroom is here. We’re a small staff so expect to get on the rotation for cleaning it. Be glad we don’t have a public restroom. Beach goers are the dirtiest people alive.”

Next door is the office and true to Axel’s word, it looks like everything has been placed with care. Vanitas drops his jacket on the actual fucking carved wood coat rack and leaves. Neat places and him don’t mix. Axel shakes his head as he pulls the door shut. “Isa keeps this place from dying via accidental tax evasion, but god I hate his fucking office.”

“Alright, the main event back here.” Axel pushes the door open and the air is warmer and the scents even stronger. “Hope you’re ready for the grand tour because the only way I don’t lose my mind is by keeping things neat back here.”

“Easier to learn if it’s consistent,” Vanitas mumbles and Axel grins at him.

“God I hope so. I’ve never even tried to teach someone else how to bake. Watching Isa try just makes me break out in hives and Roxas is not allowed to touch my ovens after that damn fire scare. Downgraded to bagel toaster and only for himself.” Axel shoves a hand through his hair. “Okay, so, my fucking bakery kitchen.”

Axel, already slightly hard to follow, kicks it up to eleven as he goes through the kitchen. Vanitas trails him, doing his best to memorize exactly where the spices are lined up and where to find the extra oven mitts. Most of the bins of flour and sugar have labels, _thank god,_ and he notices a few have little doodled icons next to the text. He doesn’t ask, Axel’s already moving on to measuring cups, spoons, and pans.

By the time they’re through with that, Vanitas’s head is stuffed and Axel pulls two trays out of one of the ovens. The rolls smell amazing and he wonders exactly how much of his pay is going to go for the things he eats on the clock. Axel, oblivious, switches them all to a cooling rack and drops the still hot trays aside. 

He dusts his hands off and looks around. “I think that’s about everything you need to know.”

“Wow, simple.” Vanitas means for it to be a dry mumble, but there’s a lot less background noise here and Axel looks at him. Vanitas makes a fist and waits for the reaction, but Axel just laughs.

“Well, you can always ask. Even if I’m actually asleep, Naminé knows where most everything is and she’s usually hanging around. You’ll need all their phone numbers too, hm. She always gets back to people quick.” Axel waves a hand over the rolls and then grabs one, taking a bite. “God, the maple ones are so worth the expense. Try one.” He nods at the rack.

Vanitas will never turn down free food; he was a college student. He takes one, juggling it slightly when he finds out they’re still pretty damn hot. Axel is holding his like it’s comfortable and takes another bite. He chews slowly and then says with a smirk, “Should have taken the motto seriously.” His eyes are bright with mischief.

“You’re my boss so I’m not going to say what I’m really thinking.” Vanitas finally takes his first bite and can’t help a sigh through his nose.

“Maple, right? Fucking amazing. I know it’s a stupid motto, Vanitas. I make stupid decisions that I refuse to walk back all the time!” Axel grabs another mixing bowl and sets it down with a clank. “You’ll get used to it or leave this place behind for better, less stupid places.”

Hopefully, he’s not Axel’s latest stupid decision that he might actually walk back. Axel wouldn’t be the first to think so. Vanitas takes another bite and watches him. 

Axel takes no notice, gathering what he needs with the ease of long familiarity. Once he has everything, he waves Vanitas over. “Alright, let’s get your hands dirty.”

* * *

Vanitas meets the first member of Axel’s staff when he steps out of the staff bathroom, still flicking water off because, of course, the hand dryer is about as effective as blowing air out of his mouth.

The girl grins at him, entirely too cheery in a bright white apron over a brighter orange shirt. “Hi,” she says, already offering a hand. “I’m Olette! You’re Axel’s new baking assistant right?”

“Yes,” he answers shortly, taking her hand. “Vanitas.”

“Nice to meet you, Vanitas! We were all so surprised to hear that someone actually took Axel up on the job. Everybody knows he’s crazy in the kitchen. But you’re not a local, right? Gosh, you’re brave.” She shakes his hand and seems unbothered when he pulls back slightly sooner than she does. Olette keeps smiling at him and despite himself, he relaxes just a bit. Definitely his half-brother’s fault.

“In need of cash and short on skills, really. I’ll do anything for money.”

Olette nods. “Right, yeah. Well, good luck with Axel! You’re still alive and he doesn’t look ready to throw you out, so you must be good enough to keep up!” She gives him one more smile and then ducks into the bathroom.

Vanitas waits for the door to close and shakes his head. “Good enough,” he mutters. “Yeah, that’s me.” Shoving his hands away, he ducks into the office to grab his phone from his jacket pocket.

He’s barely in there a minute when the door opens wider.

“Hey, Isa, where’s the- hey! You’re the new guy!”

Vanitas clenches his hand around his phone and reminds himself to breathe. He turns to look over his shoulder and for a second he thinks he’s lost it. _But he’s not-._ The teenager in the doorway points at him and Vanitas blinks away a ghost. “Yeah, ha! I knew I was going to meet you first!”

“I just met Olette.” Vanitas arches an eyebrow. “Who are you?”

The kid slumps, muttering about 'fucking morning people.'“I’m Roxas. Goddammit, I can’t believe she actually beat me. I owe her way too much money.” He shoves a hand through his hair, still grumbling, and squints at Vanitas. “Do I know you?”

_There it is._ Vanitas turns away, looking down at his phone. “No,” he answers truthfully, “You don’t know me.”

“Huh, weird, I’d swear…”

Vanitas rolls his eyes since the kid can’t see him. _Yeah, you and everybody else._ “I’m Vanitas,” he says instead. 

“Vanitas, cool. Welcome to the crew. Make sure you hide whatever baked goods you wanna take home at the end of the day. We only get the stuff that didn’t sell and doesn’t keep.” Roxas crosses to the desk and starts digging through the drawers. “Axel assumes we’re all perpetually starving, but Isa actually likes having money to pay bills, so we can’t eat everything. Bastard.” He shuts the drawers with a huff, holding a key in his other hand. “Isa, not Axel. Axel’s cool.”

He’s not sure that he even needs to say anything; Roxas seems content to vent until he’s done. Vanitas leans against the wall, opening his messages. There’s just one and even looking at the notification makes him tired. He looks back up at Roxas. The kid is squinting at him again.

“I swear to fucking god, I know you. God, I hate that shit. I’m too tired for this.” Roxas shakes his head. “I’m out doing the rounds if Axel remembers to think of me. He looks dead on his feet so I doubt he will. Later.” And just like his entrance, Roxas is gone in a whirlwind.

Vanitas lifts a hand and rubs the back of his neck. _Not a morning person, but still whipping through life at top speed._ He shakes his head and looks back down at his phone. It’s gone dark, hiding the message in the name of preserving his battery.

Not like he was going to deal with it anyway.

He clicks it back on to let his mom know what time he’s leaving and then shoves it back in his jacket pocket. Axel wants to show him one more recipe before he leaves. He glances at the backdoor where he can see the sun is actually up, a bright cheeriness that would match the outside of this place perfectly. Picking at the dough still stubbornly dried to his wrist, Vanitas goes back into the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

One in the afternoon makes for a much different town than pre-dawn. The sun is baking the town and everyone seems to be out in it.

Vanitas dodges around bikes, a pair of grandmothers walking arm in arm, and more than three people out walking their dogs. He gives the dogs the most attention and even that’s minimal. People stare and he can’t wait until he fades into the background here like he never could other places. If he lasts that long here.

“Her new boy, you _know_ -.”

“Oh...that one, hm?”

The voices are harder to ignore than looks, but he’s been practicing for years. _Whispers of the jealous_ , someone breathes into his ear.

Shaking his head, he climbs the stairs to his mom’s house and pulls the screen door open. Unlike this morning, the other door is wide open, letting noise, sunlight, and air in. He resists the urge to push it shut behind him. It’s not his house, not his rules. He leaves his shoes on, ignoring the pile of sandals beside the door, and heads for the kitchen.

Something big, dark, and fluffy rubs against his legs and he stops, bending down to pet the cat’s head. “Hey, Blob,” he mutters. “Already begged for extra lunch?” The cat _murrps_ and headbutts his fingers, drawing a small smile from him. He gives the cat an extra scratch and watches Blob lead the way into the bright kitchen. Blob stands out like an ink blot, a furry contrast to the warm sunny colors his mom has painted this part of her domain.

She’s out currently, the sink stacked with dishes from breakfast or lunch or both. One more won’t make a difference and a glass of strawberry lemonade is a summer constant. He drinks half of one and refills it before placing the pitcher back in the fridge. His jacket goes on one of the chairs and he pushes up his sleeves to fill the sink with water. Blob settles on one of his feet, a very warm weight that only seems to grow heavier as time passes.

The windows are open here too, noise drifting in through the curtains. Despite it, he listens only for the buzz of his phone on the table. Nothing sets it off and he scrubs a bit harder at a bowl.

“I’m home!” The voice comes just before the screen door slamming shut.

“In the kitchen,” Vanitas calls back. 

His mom appears, all smiles and with a big box in her arms. “Welcome home, Vanitas.”

“I’ve been home. You just got home.” He flicks soap and water off his fingers and moves to take the box from her. She dodges him and puts it on the table instead. “Mom.”

“It’s not that heavy. Look, it’s already down.” She pats his cheek. “Blob, are you catching water from the sink?”

Blob rolls over onto his back, purring. Akemi chuckles and says, “He already ate lunch.”

“I figured.” Vanitas squints at the label. “Is this for me?”

“I think it’s the last of the things you had shipped out. It certainly took them long enough.” She scoops up the cat, scratching his ears. “You _were_ waiting for a couple more things, weren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Vanitas grabs a knife and slices open the tape. The box is absolutely _stuffed_ with packing peanuts and he scowls. “Asshole,” he mutters and starts to dig in.

Blob struggles in her arms and his mom laughs. “They’re a toy for him.”

“If he eats them, he’ll get sick.” Vanitas shakes his arms off, scattering more packing peanuts. “I’ll just take it to my room and shut it in the closet.”

“Make sure none of them snuck in.”

“I always keep it shut.” Vanitas hefts the box up. “Is Sora home?”

She shakes her head and lets Blob go. He darts for one of the floor peanuts, smacking it around. “He headed out around eight for the beach, dressed for work.”

And she just left the front door open when she stepped out. God, this place is insane. Vanitas shakes his head. “I’ll finish the dishes.”

“Thank you. Blob, come here and give me that.”

The stairs are tucked around the corner and Vanitas climbs up them silently. It’s slightly cooler on the second floor and he passes by Sora’s wide open door to enter his. He squints around the room, but can’t see anyone waiting. Still, he knows better than to trust the shadows under his bed. Quickly, the box goes in his closet to be dealt with later tonight. It’s mostly useless, but necessary things. The only thing he wants out of it is probably taped to the bottom out of some kind of petty revenge.

Vanitas pulls the closet shut and someone gives an offended grunt by his feet. He looks down into Scrapper’s ugly smushed face and smirks. “Sucks. You’ll survive.”

Scrapper grunts again and then darts back under his bed. Definitely the more relatable cat. With a sigh, Vanitas shoves a hand through his hair and goes back downstairs to the inevitable conversation about his day.

True to form, his mom is seated at the table, glass in front of her and Blob in her lap. He returns to the dishes and she smiles at him. “Do I have to drag it out of you?”

“Maybe there isn’t anything to say.”

“Oh please, Vanitas. The whole town would love to know Axel’s bakery secrets. Share with your mom.” Akemi’s eyes are bright with mischief and he makes a face at her.

“It’s not like he’s giving me the secrets on the first day. I can tell you that I’m decently sure he only dusts things with sugar.” Vanitas stacks another plate in the drying rack as she laughs. That it happens when he talks is still a surprise. His lips quirk slightly. “It was like a tour today and then some basics. He has teenagers working for him.”

She tips her head, Blob mimicking her. “Who did you meet?”

Vanitas shrugs. “Some Olette and then…” _Blond hair, bright blue eyes, a furrow between his eyebrows._ “Some Roxas kid.”

“Oh, local sweethearts the both of them. Sora hangs out with Roxas all the time.”

“Yeah, I figured when he started doing the squint thing.”

Akemi hums. “I’m surprised he did it. He knows Sora and you know your brother. He’s been telling everyone about you coming for a visit.”

_As long as he doesn’t tell the one person that matters._ Vanitas shakes his head and puts the last of the silverware into the rack. “I’m _not_ that interesting. It’s the damn small town thing. I keep waiting to wake up and see someone on a ladder peering in my window.”

“Nonsense, Vanitas. Ms. Howley moved over a year ago.” She’s laughing again and this time, Vanitas chuckles with her. It’s getting easier to remember that he can.

He glances toward the table and his phone, screen still dark and message unanswered.

* * *

Akemi chases him from the kitchen in the name of getting some post-work rest. Vanitas, used to solitude and good household deed done, doesn’t argue. The heat of the day is baking the beach outside and he can hear all the people that are crowding the street. With those choices, he takes the third option and climbs back up to his room. He has a box to deal with.

This door he can and does click shut behind him. His mom knocks and Sora acts like it’s not even a barrier so it’s not like he’s locking them out. He just likes knowing the option is there. He slumps against it for a second, rubbing at his forehead. Maybe he’ll just take a fucking nap. But his eyes are drawn to the closet door and he has to know if it’s in there.

Vanitas does a cursory check for cats and spies Scrapper napping under his bed again. Safe for the moment, he opens his closet and kneels in the doorway. Packing peanuts follow the flaps and spill around the box, making a mess before he even starts digging. He grumbles a few swears under his breath and sticks both hands in.

A couple folders of paperwork are pulled out and set aside; a smaller box that rattles slightly is probably the box of jewelry he left. Vanitas has to dig all the way to the bottom and feel around before he finds what he’s really looking for. A bag, carefully taped to the bottom just like he knew it would be, comes loose with a yank. Vanitas shakes off a ridiculous amount of the packing peanuts and retreats back to his bed, kicking the closet shut behind him.

The bag is the waterproof kind, meant to protect anything sent through the mail from the elements. He tears it open and tugs his annoyingly-won prize free. The book is well-worn, corners bent and pages yellowed. It was already discolored when he got it, but he remembers pressing down the corners of the pages he liked best. Now he straightens a couple out, careful not to tear them.

It was a gift and Vanitas doubts the giver knows how much he still cares about the damn thing. ‘It’s a children’s story. You can read a chapter before bed each night.’ Vanitas closes it and thumbs at the letters that mark out the title. _The Secret Garden_ , hah. A stupid book of dreams. He didn’t even know what he was wishing for as he read it again and again. Still, he’d been furious when he realized he’d left it behind. It, more than anything, had made him reach out and get the things shipped to him.

He drops it to the side and flops backward on the bed. He exhales hard enough to make his hair sway, staring up at the empty white ceiling. The walls are just as empty, the white only broken up by the shapes of the furniture. It still looks like a guest room and he’s not in any rush to change it. This could only last another month. It all depends on how long it takes _his_ attention to circle back around.

His fingers move across the sheets until he finds the edge of his phone. He picks it up and stares at the black screen. Something has to distract _him_ and there’s only one good option. With a hard inhale, Vanitas clicks the phone on and opens the message that’s been sitting for over a day.

**Xemnas:** Call me.

He should. He should explain it all.

He can’t.

_He_ might hear and Vanitas can’t risk it.

A text he can do.

**Vanitas:** I’m fine. With the other side. I’ll check in later.

He hits send before he can overthink three simple sentences. His phone drops onto the bed again and he presses his hands to his eyes. _Suffocating._

Something warm bumps his arm and he drops his hand onto the cat’s head. Scrapper grunts and leans into the scratch. Vanitas exhales and continues scratching at his ears and chin. Once Scrapper is satisfied and scrambles away, he sits up.

The window is shut, one of the only ones in the house. He unlocks it and lifts it just a crack. A trickle of air and noise drifts in, and he watches a girl go jogging past. Sometimes, it’s that easy.

Vanitas turns back to the bed and picks up the book. He smooths out the bent cover and sets it on the desk instead. 

Better here than there.

He clicks his computer on and starts looking up recipes to try at home. The sounds of people and the sea drift in, keeping him company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blob is the most important character in this fic, btw. If you're curious what he looks like, check out [this great art](https://spadefish.tumblr.com/post/185559705552/warmed-up-with-this-pic-of-vanitas-with-a-cat-for) that inspired me to put the cats in this fic!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright we're swinging over into the other lane because why do one found family when you can do two!

Ienzo’s shift at the Zephyr Garden starts the same way as always. He comes in five minutes late, holding a cup of coffee and a muffin, and looking as if he just rolled out of bed. Aeleus smiles at him from where he’s adjusting the display vases and Ienzo politely doesn’t grumble at him. Ten in the morning continues to be too damn early.

He takes two long sips of his coffee and only then does he consent to slip on the apron and move to his place. Yawning, Ienzo keys into the register and then slumps over his cup. “This is child cruelty,” he calls to Aeleus.

“You’re being paid and you agreed to work again this summer.” Aeleus comes over and pats the top of his head. “You’ll wake up.”

Ienzo grumbles and takes another sip. Smirking Aeleus adds, “It could be worse. A new hire across the way was up and about at 4:30.”

“I could still be awake then.”

“Perhaps, but not starting a shift.” Aeleus picks up a pair of pruning shears and moves to a couple of waiting rose bushes.

Ienzo watches him work, blinking tiredly. “Spying again?”

“He was up on the boardwalk as Dilan and I got around for our morning jog. Not everything is about Even and Axel, though no doubt they think so.”

“You married him.”

Aeleus tosses a leaf at him. “I did, and adopted his obnoxious son.”

Ienzo sticks his tongue out and then drops his head on his arms. The bell on the door always wakes him, so he has no qualms about dozing until he  _ must _ wake up. The soft sound of Aeleus’s preferred work music doesn't help. Music, a bit of humming, and the click of the pruners are sounds he knows almost better than the creak of the floor in his bedroom.

Luck is not on his side this morning. The bell jingles mere minutes after he puts his head down. He sits up, covers a yawn, and tries to look presentable. A smile is out of the question, but he thinks anyone who might come in is well aware that no one who works here is much for smiling.

Except, the person walking in isn’t a regular. Ienzo can’t even recall seeing them around town before. His eyebrows draw together and he glances at Aeleus, but his dad is busy pruning. Maybe they moved in while he was at school this spring. It doesn’t truly matter in the end. Ienzo forces the smallest of upward curves to his lips.

They smile back, their face one of those that falls into easy, friendly lines. They’re definitely the type of person who has no problem interrupting someone busy with another task just to ask how their day is going.  _ Just fine before you butted in. _ Though, perhaps, Ienzo has spent too much time avoiding just that type on campus. Perhaps. This customer has done no such thing yet. 

They don’t look local with skin a few shades lighter than the average and dirty blond hair. Ienzo can see a hint of green in their eyes as they get close and makes an errant mental guess at them being mixed. Port Matahari is a melting pot more and more these days. None of his family is actually local, especially not his father or him.

Ienzo takes a sip of his coffee and then sets it politely to the side. “Welcome to Zephyr Garden. Is there anything I can help you find today?”

“Ah…” They rub the back of their neck. “Maybe?” They smile again like they’re trying to get Ienzo to do the same. “I’ve never been here before.”

“Well, welcome,” Ienzo says, trying not to be robotic. “What brought you in?”

For some reason, they go a bit red. They look away. “Oh, I was just...passing by and thought it looked nice in here.” They offer a hand, a bit too quickly. Ienzo manages not to jump back, but gives the hand a look before looking back at their face. They smile  _ again. _ “I’m Demyx.”

“Nice to meet you.” Ienzo takes the hand, gives it the shortest handshake he can get away with, and then pulls back. “My name’s Ienzo. I can only help you find something if you know what you’re looking for.” He grabs his coffee cup before they try to make him do something else.

Demyx rocks back on his heels slightly and looks around the shop. “Okay, okay. So maybe I’m looking for a good flower to give to someone I’ve just met.”

Ienzo frowns, but they keep talking.

“So, if you’ve got any flowers that are good for first meetings… Or to show that you’re interested in getting to know someone better! Yeah, that’s it.” They snap their fingers and grin at him. 

Ienzo takes a long sip of his coffee, staring at them. Their expression doesn’t flicker or drop. Ienzo swallows and lowers the cup again. “Yes, we have flowers good for that. Platonic or romantic interest?”

“Oh god, I don’t wanna  _ assume _ or anything.”

_ He is not to roll his eyes at the customers. _ Ienzo blinks slightly slower than normal and then gestures toward one of the displays. “Then I would go with flowers that are just ones that you like. Most people don’t actually know flower language and it varies by region anyway.”

Demyx frowns slightly. “It does?”

“Yes. As with most things, different cultures assign different meanings to flowers. Colors are already fixed with different meanings. If you actually want to discuss that, you need to speak with Aeleus.” Ienzo points at the man still working at the rose bushes. “He’s more of a florist. I just work here.”

“Think I’d rather talk to you.” Demyx smiles at him.

Ienzo sighs and doesn’t care if they find it rude. “Well, if you’d actually like to make a purchase, tell me. If not, you’re not really in here with a purpose.”

“Unlike the rest of your customers?” Demyx arches an eyebrow at him, hands shoved into their jacket pockets. The empty store behind them makes Ienzo frown.

“If you just want someone to talk to, you’re not paying my salary and I’m not required to fulfill that for you. Go find someone else.”

“Ienzo.” Aeleus’s voice is firm and he’s staring over at them. “Do you need assistance?”

Demyx holds both hands up. “Nope. Think we’re good. I’ll take one of the white lilies please. Wrapped up is fine.”

Of course the second Aeleus takes notice of  _ his _ tone, they back down. That’s always how it works with the annoying ones. Ienzo forces something not even resembling a smile and goes to get the requested flower. He wraps it in blue paper and rings it up with several jabs at the register. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Ah, no thanks.” Demyx hands over a few worn bills and scoops the lily up. “Keep the change.” They hesitate, one hand wrapped around the flower and Ienzo arches an eyebrow. Demyx leans back on their heels and then turns and leaves without another word. The bell jingles and Ienzo sighs loudly.

Aeleus frowns at him. “That was impolite.”

“The hire someone else.” Ienzo slumps on one arm again and picks at the top of his muffin. “I should have done that internship.”

His dad shakes his head and comes over to ruffle his hair. “We’re glad to have you home, even with the attitude.”

Ienzo sticks his tongue out and gazes across the flowers. At least here he can doze and not worry about impressing anyone. What will customers do? Report him to his parents? 

He takes a bite of his muffin, thoughts carrying him away.

* * *

Demyx taps his forehead against the bricks of some closed building a block from the flower-shop. “You. Idiot. Asshole.”

The whole plan was stupid and now Demyx has a flower for no one. He stares at the lily and shoves a hand through his hair. “Stupid.” This is what he gets for following his heart  _ again. _

But what was he supposed to do?

He spotted Ienzo just outside the shop, the sun catching the unusual silver of his hair. Demyx has lost his breath then and there. Of course he’d stumbled in after like a puppy a few minutes later. Then he’d gotten to be a kicked puppy. There’s a lack of interest and then there’s  _ pay me to talk to you. _

“Least I didn’t actually try the flower.” Demyx sighs. A couple joggers give him a look as they go past and that’s the sign to start moving. They don’t have to tell him twice. He shrugs his case into a better position on his shoulder and starts walking further down the boardwalk. It’s already warming up and he’ll have to ditch the jacket for midday which is a shame; the look is part of the wanderer musician appeal. 

He keeps going until he’s about perfectly between one set of stairs down to the beach and one of the well populated pavilions. The lunch crowd will start trickling in over the next hour, which gives him time to set up and tune. Demyx sets his case down and opens it, careful of the zipper that likes to catch and rip.

His sitar has come with him across more miles than he’d prefer to remember. It’s the one thing he’s always kept in decent condition, shielding it from the weather even when he was soaked and shivering. He brushes his fingers down the wood and then frees it from the dusty case. “How are we feeling today?” he asks her quietly, plucking one of her strings.

It twangs, entirely out of tune, and he sighs. “Got it, bratty day.” Demyx settles against the rail, carefully tuning her. He plucks quietly, not wanting to draw any attention until he’s ready. He can see people slowing slightly and giving him a look before they move on already. Everyone appreciates music and they’re ready to hear it.

Demyx smiles to himself and strums her strings. “Better,” he tells her. “We’ll warm up with something good, alright?” Warming up definitely won’t be hard. He can feel sweat beading at his temples and wipes them off before he puts his fingers back to the strings.

It’s easy to forget rejection, the rain, and the cold nights with nothing but the stars with music spilling from his hands. Demyx hums a nothing song as he warms his hands up, fingers moving up and down the strings to reach for different chords. He moves from warm-ups into a song proper, not one that needs him to sing along. More heads turn as people pass and he can see smiles crop up on a couple faces as they enjoy the music.

Demyx grins at them as he moves into the chorus. One passerby calls out the next line and he winks at them. Nobody comes close enough to hand over money, but the day’s really just getting started.

He dropped the lily into his case after lifting his sitar free and it almost looks like another part of the show. The musician with someone’s flower, wherever he goes he’s got someone who thinks of him. It’s easier to think of that way instead of reminding himself of yet another cute person who doesn’t give a damn about him. Isn’t the first and won’t be the last.

He shrugs it off and starts playing ‘if you’re happy and you know it’ for a little family that’s taken a seat in the pavilion. The youngest member smiles at him and claps their hands along with him.

All he needs to be happy is music; it’s what got him this far and it’ll carry him even further. Still, he wouldn’t mind if Ienzo took a lunch and wandered by to hear him at his best. Maybe then he’d reconsider the whole  _ pay me _ situation.


	4. Chapter 4

Grey clouds have moved in, rain incoming, and Naminé closes her paints with a sigh. She was really hoping to finish her sky study, but she absolutely cannot risk waterlogging what she already has. She packs up her things, slinging her bag over one shoulder and the chair over the other. She always feels a bit like a pack mule, but at least she’s got it all!

Climbing up from the beach she becomes part of the river of exiting humanity. Careful not to bump any children, Naminé moves to the rail of the boardwalk. It gives her a moment to breathe and then she moves further down. A few drops land on her head and she holds her bag slightly closer.

“Nope, nope, nope,” she mumbles as the drizzle starts. The perfect shelter comes up on her right and she grabs the handle to swing herself inside. The bells jingle as the door closes again and Naminé sighs in relief. The bakery smells as delicious as always and she can see a dark head of hair as someone reloads the counter displays with goods.

Naminé walks over, dropping her chair against the wall. “Good afternoon, Xion. You might get shelter seekers soon. It just started raining.”

The person behind the counter straightens and they are definitely not Xion. Naminé swallows a squeak of embarrassment as she meets oddly tinted brown eyes. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else!”

He blinks and bends down again. “It’s fine. You didn’t do anything rude.” His voice is flat, disinterested. He’s adding cookies from a tray into the case with robotic motions. Naminé almost feels like she should buy one to make it up to him.

Glancing at him, she really does feel foolish. His hair might be the same color as Xion’s, but his is longer and thicker. It also looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in ages. That Xion is also darker than him just makes it twice as embarrassing.

Naminé shifts in place, debating another apology, but then he stands and looks at her again. “Did you want something?”

She shakes her head and then motions toward her bag. “I just needed out of the rain.”

“Okay.” He picks up the tray and moves toward the door back to the kitchen.

Her thoughts finally click together and Naminé lifts a hand. “Oh wait! I didn’t introduce myself.”

He turns back, eyebrow already arched. “I don’t think you need to.”

“I meant…” Naminé sighs at herself. “I’m sorry. I’m not a customer. I’m Naminé, I work here too.” She holds a hand over the counter.

He tips his head and then sets the tray aside. His hand is gritty with something as he takes hers, but she’s felt worse. Naminé smiles. “Nice to meet you.”

“I didn’t introduce myself.”  _ Oh, he’s contrary. _ He shakes his head. “Vanitas. Figured you knew that. I already heard that I was being...discussed.”

Naminé’s smile widens. “Only a bit. It’s not often someone new moves here.” She studies him as he releases her hand. “But Sora’s excitement makes sense now. He’s been talking about you being here for two weeks.”

Something flickers over Vanitas’s face, but then he gives a rueful smile. “I’m not as exciting as he thinks. He’s too nice.”

“Oh yes, I agree. He’s everyone’s cheerleader. It’s nice, but also overwhelming, sometimes.” Naminé moves to set her bag in its usual space behind the counter. She can see more of him at this angle and hums. “That’s a lot of black.” Under the white apron, he’s dark from head to toe.

Vanitas squints at her. “Yeah. So?”

“You’re covered in flour. That would annoy me.” She brushes at her shorts. “But I guess you don’t notice while you’re baking.”

“Not really.” Vantias takes the tray again. “I need to check the ovens. Xion should be back in a minute.”

“Okay. Nice to meet you!”

He nods and goes through the swinging door. It’s barely stopped when Xion pops around the corner. “What do you think?”

Naminé looks at her, hands moving to her hips. “Eavesdropping is rude, you know?”

“It was only a second. Come on, Nami, thoughts?”

She sighs and takes a seat on one of the stools behind the counter. “I don’t know, normal? Sora makes everyone sound as exciting as him, but he’s very...calm?”

Xion nods. “He’s solitary. He hasn’t talked to any of us really. Three full days of work and all we really know is his name!”

“And that he’s Sora’s brother.”

“Yeah, because of Sora...and their faces.” Xion leans on the display case. “What is he doing here?”

“Baking.”

Xion rolls her eyes. “He’s a college student. And summer break or not, Axel didn’t say he was just a summer hire.”

“Does it matter?”

“I’m curious, but hm.” Xion looks at the door to the back. “You ever get the feeling that someone’s just sort of...sad?” Xion watches as a shadow moves behind the small window inset in the door. “It’s more than that he’s like an older, more subdued Sora. He seems like he’s not used to smiling.”

Naminé looks around the front room, at the bright walls and inviting seats. The place smells like a warm afternoon at home with friends, and there are childish paintings tucked into a special spot Axel decreed was theirs years ago. Surrounded by this place, by these warm, wonderful people, she can’t imagine not being happy. “Maybe he’s just not much for smiling.”

“Maybe.” Xion shakes her head and turns to face Naminé. The rain has picked up outside and it slaps against the windows. Despite being the perfect place to shelter, no one else has ducked inside. Xion grabs a pad of paper and their pens. “Tic-tac-toe for who pays for popcorn tonight?”

Naminé grins at the challenge and takes her pen. “Yes. Be ready with those bakery bucks.”

* * *

The rain makes for better background noise than the radio. Vanitas clicked it off maybe five minutes after Axel left for a break and the weather has rewarded him. He looks toward one of the windows and can see the blurred, but colorful shapes of umbrellas stumbling by. The beach will empty out so he’ll probably see Sora at home.

Musing over whether or not that’ll mean excess company, Vanitas steps over to one of the industrial mixers. The batter inside is smooth and he moves the head to give himself more room. Cocoa powder drifts over the counter as he measures it out. He drops a bit in and sets the mixer to a slow fold. Bit by bit the batter darkens, Vanitas stopping the mixer to add more and more until he’s satisfied with the color.

He dusts the excess from his palms and then takes a spatula to the mixing bowl. The batter falls into the center as he scrapes the sides, sinking into itself. Vanitas folds it all together once more by hand, taking care to check the bottom. The pan is waiting at his elbow and he hefts the bowl in both hands to pour it out. It falls smoothly, Vanitas eyeing it for lumps, and settles like chocolate hills.

The spatula smooths it all out, filling in the corners evenly. Vanitas sets the spatula back in the bowl and then picks up the pan just slightly. It drops with a smack back onto the counter and he nods. As even as he can make it, he loads the pan into the oven and sets the timer.

Clean up is his least favorite part, but a quick glance around proves that he’s entirely alone. He picks up the spatula and gives it a lick. No one appears and he sets to the only really good part of baking: sneaking some for yourself. There’s something better about an elicit early snack and that’s he at work...well, the dishwasher cleans things well enough for them to pass quarantine clearances.

Vanitas licks a spot of chocolate from his lips and watches the rain. Vaguely he can hear chatter from the front, probably the girls talking about nothing important. Nobody here seems interested in anything outside their pleasant little bubble. Good for him, but he finds himself wishing for conversation about something other than the locals, their goings-on, and the weather.

He shakes his head and bites end of the spatula without thinking. “Fuck,” he mutters and yanks it out. “Not at home.” He takes it right the sink, adding the mixing bowl a minute later. He was sure he’d broken the habit. He starts to wipe down the counter for any smudges of chocolate.  _ ‘Keep things clean. Someone who cannot discipline themselves shows the world that they cannot be trusted.’ _

“Shut the fuck up,” he mutters to no one and scrubs at a spot that might just be a permanent stain on the counter.

The door to the hall opens out of the corner of his eye and Vanitas straightens, pressing his back to the counter.

Axel shakes his head, sending water flying. “Fucking rain. I hate when storms come out of nowhere.” He crosses the kitchen to stand right in front of the ovens and holds his hands toward them. “I would crawl inside you if I could.”

Vanitas arches an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“He can’t stand weather that’s not causing the rest of us to sweat to death.” Axel’s partner-in-business, Isa has come in behind him. His hair is completely dry, but rain drips down his coat and from the box in his arms. He gestures with it. “Could you take this? Someone special ordered sprinkles for an order.”

Vanitas takes the box, ever the damn people-pleaser and sets it on the counter. Axel has turned so his back and his hair are uncomfortably close to the ovens. “That rain was  _ freezing _ . It’s summer and this is bullshit. I will climb in my own damn ovens if I damn well please.”

“Whatever you like,” Isa says flatly, already turning for the door. “I’m going to cover my bike.”

Axel flaps a hand. “Yeah, yeah, go take care of your baby.”

Vanitas still has no goddamn idea if they’re only partners for work or outside of it too. He decides to set it aside as unimportant and starts to open up the box. “Sprinkles for cookies or a cake?”

“Special cupcake order. They’re little seashells and surfboards.” Axel flaps the back of his shirt open, sending more water around. It sizzle against the ovens. “One of the kids is throwing a big summer bash and she always likes to use me for goods. But, I can’t complain since she ordered the damn things and her dads pay us well for the supply.” He grins at Vanitas. “But, we’re spending the week making a thousand cupcakes.”

Vanitas stops, one hand wrapped around a bag of sprinkles. He looks at them, tiny little surfboards, and then back at Axel. “I punched a guy once who was trying to haze me for a business club.”

Axel laughs. “I’m not hazing you. Trust me, once we get into the rhythm it goes pretty fucking fast. You will only taste the icing for the week though, trust me. I never eat the damn things when the party happens.”

“Are you...invited? You’re not a kid.”

“Oh, fuck off. I’m the honorary older brother kid.” Axel finally moves away from the ovens as Vanitas’s timer goes off. He grabs a potholder and opens the door. “Fuck these smell good. I’m stealing one.”

“It’s your stock,” Vanitas mutters. Distantly, he can hear the backdoor open and shut again, but Isa doesn’t reappear. No doubt he’s carefully drying every inch of his coat in his office. The guy is meticulous and Vanitas has never seen him with a hair out of place. “They need a minute to set up.”

Axel groans, throwing his head back. The pan goes onto a cooling rack and he waves the potholder at his face to hold off what are definitely false tears. “How could this happen to me? I’ve been such a good man. Dealt with the damn rain today and yet I have to wait a few minutes? I hate this life.”

Vanitas rolls his eyes and continues unpacking the sprinkles. “Who’s throwing the party? Do we have to play cupcake seller there?”

“Naw,” Axel drawls. “We set them up before the thing starts and then I’ll do clean up after. It’s just a beach party, only goes until a bit after sunset. Kairi’s thrown one ever since she got into high school.”

Vanitas stops and squints at him. “She’s only a junior. You make it sound like it’s been five years of this.”

Axel shrugs and leans one arm on the counter. “I’m surprised you know that, being new in town.”

“She’s Sora’s best friend. I met her the second day I was in town.” Vanitas breaks eye contact, sorting the sprinkle bags into two piles. “She ambushed me at breakfast in my own house.”

His boss, an asshole, laughs at him. “Yeah, she’s like that. Kai’s my baby sister and the chaos genes are  _ dominant _ in our blood. I think she spends every other night over at your mom’s place. Always tries to tell me that Akemi is a better cook than me which I think is just her way of trying to get me to make her fancy shit to prove myself. But I’m onto her! I make her eat it with me and Isa and Roxas so it’s not actually a nice meal.”

Vanitas shakes his head. “Whatever you want,  _ sir _ .”

“Fuck off with that, Vanitas.” Axel sticks his tongue out at him. “Boss or not, that makes my skin crawl. Hate corporate bullshit like that…” It trails off into a mumble as he gets up and grabs a knife to cut the brownies apart.

Not one to argue about corporate bullshit, Vanitas starts to breakdown the box the sprinkles were in. He sets it aside with the rest of the recycling to go out at the end of his shift and when he turns back, Axel’s offering him a brownie on a napkin. “Break time! You’ve been working since I left. That’s not healthy. Let’s go sit down and enjoy something good.”

He blinks and takes the brownie. Axel takes this as all the excuse he needs to take Vanitas by the shoulder and steer him out the door to the front.

Naminé and Xion look around from their spot further down the counter. Naminé smiles and waves to them, a cookie in her other hand. “Welcome back, Axel.”

“Hey, Naminé. You get your stuff inside before this rain started to ruin my life?” Axel continues to steer Vanitas down the counter and then around the end of it toward the floor and a table. Vanitas sighs at him, shrugs him off, and takes a seat. Axel grins at him and leans against the counter next to Naminé. 

Xion is frowning at him. Vanitas frowns back. She smiles at literally everyone from what little he’s seen of her. He’s not sure why, but he swears she hates him for some reason. Well, she’s hardly the fucking first. He looks away from her, deliberately taking a bite of the brownie. Not his problem. Maybe he’ll drag a chair into the back once Axel is distracted by the other members of his staff.

Axel is already talking to them, so it probably won’t be a long wait. “-seeing tonight?”

“A new animated movie came out by that studio Roxas really likes. We’re going to that at six.”

“Dinner time? You guys are going to eat nothing but snacks.” Axel shakes his head. “The wilds of youth. I do that now and Isa isn’t the only thing complaining at me. My stomach  _ hates _ it.”

Xion snorts and pokes him in the shoulder. “God, Axel, are you really starting to complain about being  _ old _ ? I thought you were going to live forever!”

“I will! That doesn’t mean the flesh body likes it! Age is still happening even if I’m the hippest, freshest guy around this town.” Axel throws up a peace sign and Xion groans.

Naminé laughs. “Humor keeps you young.” She pats his arm and steals a piece of his brownie. “But all the sugar doesn’t.”

“Hey!”

Vanitas tunes the three of them out, looking out the big windows that display the showpiece cakes that are really only eyecatchers. The rain’s coming down harder, but there are still people outside, running through the rain or tucked under umbrellas. He watches a little girl go jumping for raindrops, hands outstretched to catch as many as possible. Someone else is sheltering under the awning of the shop across the way, an instrument case pressed between them and the window. His view is cut off as someone walks right in front of their window with a bright green umbrella that looks like a frog making a face at him. Vanitas wrinkles his nose at it and takes another bite of the brownie.

Between the warm laughter at the counter and the cold rain outside, he’s right in the middle, lukewarm and comfortable with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I polled people on twitter and most voted for licking the spatula. Vital information gathering, I tell you. ;D
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sora and Vanitas go out on the town!
> 
> (hums the Mickey Mouse March)

Rattling through the tunnel, a button must be pressed, as fanfare blares from a tinny speaker. A moment later, the ball actually lands in the hole. The fanfare plays a second time and Sora mimes a trumpet blast along with it.

Vanitas marks the third hole-in-one Sora’s gotten on their card and then swings his club at his ankles. “Move.”

“You’ve got this one, Vanitas! Right through those front columns, you can’t miss.” It’d be patronizing from anyone else, but Vanitas lets it slide as he drops his ball onto the start. He lines up the putter next to it, eyes the small gap between the columns and then gives the ball a tap.

It rolls right up to the columns, glances off the side of one, and settles sadly at the corner of the false building.

Sora claps and it only sounds the tiniest bit sarcastic. “Well, they did make it tougher after the last time someone broke it.”

Vanitas sighs through his nose. “What happened to you can’t miss?”

“Well, I can’t! But I play a lot. I know everything about this course.” Sora spreads his arms wide, putter in one hand.

The Magical World Tour Mini-Golf course is quickly becoming Vanitas’s personal hell. Sure, he’s not surprised that his brother would have a favorite place for mini-golf, or that he’d be so good at it that he’s getting a hole-in-one every time, but it’s still the tiniest bit insufferable. When Sora said they were going to hang out, he was really expecting pizza and the ocean. Vanitas grumbles and moves over to his ball. He leans around the building and gives the ball a tap. It hits the wall and ricochets around the corner.

Vanitas swings the putter up to his shoulder and arches an eyebrow at Sora. “So, if you know everything about this place, I’m guessing you know how it got broken.”

“Well, yeah, but it wasn’t on purpose!” Sora holds his hands up, putter dangling between his fingers. “Kairi wanted to liven up the game since we’ve played a ton before and there was betting about dinner and then things got...intense between her and Xion.” His eyes go far away. “They’re still not welcome back here at the same time.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Vanitas shakes his head. “Why are you friends with Kairi?”

“Cause she’s my best friend, duh?” Sora skips around the edge of the hole and scoops his ball out. “Come on, one more shot and it’s par!”

Vanitas hits the ball and it actually goes in. Sora gives him a thumb’s up and Vanitas only considers throwing the ball at him for a second. He settles for sighing like it hurts and marking his score on the card. “You’re officially over ten ahead.”

“Oh, you’ll catch up! We’re only three holes in.” Sora motions to the next hole which has several false trees and what looks like a mini campsite for the ball to pass through. “It’s all angles. I thought you were good at math?”

“Only because I have to be.” Vanitas waves for Sora to go first. At least then he has a chance of seeing the path he should take. “School sucks.”

Sora drops his ball carelessly, gives the hole a once over, and then hits. His ball bounces off one tree, rolls into the tent, and disappears. A moment later, the ball appears from the base of another tree and drops into the hole. “Yeah, it’s a lot of talking about books and math and whatever. Mom says it’s important, but man I wish we could study outside.”

“You’d never pay attention then,” Vanitas says with a smirk. “You’d be running around like a maniac.”

“I can be outside and focus, geez, Vanitas.” Sora rolls his eyes. “It’s better than those boring classrooms where they barely let us open the windows anywhere but the first floor.”

Vanitas lines up for his turn, but has really already given up on the hole-in-one. “Didn’t I hear you and Riku talking about trying to scale the outside of the building your first year?”

Sora laughs. “Yeah! That was totally fun. We got in so much trouble, but it was worth it because I totally won. Like you wouldn’t have done it if someone dared you.”

“Oh, I would have. And I wouldn’t have let the teachers stop me before I hit the roof.” Vanitas takes his shot and actually gets the angle right to reach the tent. The ball stops just outside it because it’s mocking him. “Are you telling me mom didn’t constantly use me as a warning to you?”

“No. She used you as the example of a nice student in class that kept his, what did she call it? Oh right! You kept your ‘delinquent pursuits’ to after school hours. And you asked her for recipes all the time which she liked.”

Vanitas makes a face. “Yeah, well. If I behaved in class, I could do what I wanted almost any other time.” He smacks the ball harder than he means to and it shoots out of the hidden tunnel and right over the hole. “Goddammit.”

Sora leans over and pats his shoulder. “We could stop keeping score?”

“I can still count in my head.” Vanitas takes a swipe at his arm, but it’s not really trying to hit him. Sora loops the arm around his shoulders instead. “Sora.”

“What?” Sora’s eyes are softer than they should be and Vanitas makes a face at him. Sora grins, hugs him, and then backs up again. 

Vanitas taps the ball into the hole proper and wishes his brother wasn’t so empathetic; he hates feeling easy to read. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he can feel his mood sink a tiny bit lower. He fishes it out as Sora sets up at the next hole.

**Axel: You good for cupcake hell tomorrow? You’re in at 8.**

Thank god. Vanitas exhales and taps back a quick ‘ **Yeah** .’

Sora’s looking at him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just Axel reminding me about work tomorrow.” Vanitas can hear laughter, different from the mocking calls of the birds. More people must be starting the course. He steps off the last hole so he doesn’t take anything to the ankles. “I’m going to poison one of those cupcakes and give it to Kairi personally.”

“Vanitas!” Sora looks affronted. “That’s so rude.”

“Poison...is rude.”

“Yeah! Mostly because I know you’re just being dramatic. You don’t actually have poison unless you’ve been bottling whatever it is that Scrapper gives off with his glares.”

Vanitas snorts. “Okay, fair. I left all the poison behind when I moved here.”

Sora waggles a finger. “You better have.” He swings his putter and his ball goes rolling right along. Vanitas is already expecting a hole-in-one and pulls out their scorecard. If he’s smiling a little, no one else is here to notice.

“Hey, it’s Sora up there!”

“Sora!”

“Roxas, Xion, hi!” Sora waves wildly. “Vanitas, you know them, right?”

Vanitas makes a face. The universe must have found something new to punish him for. “In the vaguest sense of I’ve seen them at work, yes.”

“Great! Let’s wait for them to catch up!”

There’s absolutely no way out of this. Whatever. Sora can chatter at them and he’ll just shut up and not ruin things for his brother. Vanitas drops his ball on the spot to at least try and take a swing at this weird sand dune decorated hole. There is absolutely no cohesive theme here. He takes a swing and the rolling ground sends his ball back and forth until it stops in the far corner. God, he hates mini-golf.

“-hanging out. What are you two doing?”

“Enjoying a day off. Sundays are the best, right?”

“Xion texted me at nine to ask about lunch and then this. She should be glad I like her.”

“Oh, yeah I’m sooooo blessed.”

Vanitas looks up as the shoving and elbowing starts. He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. Whenever Roxas and Xion are in the bakery at the same time, it always seems to devolve into play fighting. He’s not sure if it’s flirting or just sibling behavior. Axel only encourages it. Vanitas pulls a piece of gum from his pocket and shoves it in his mouth. It’s not that his coworkers make him want to smoke, it’s just the general state of humanity and that he  _ knows _ how Sora’s friends get.

Xion smiles at him even while she has Roxas struggling in a headlock. “Hi, Vanitas. Aren’t you hot in that?”

He looks down at the dark jacket and jeans. “No.” Like Sora, like most everyone here in the summer, Xion and Roxas are both in shorts and light t-shirts. At least they both have actual shoes on; Sora’s in flip flops and Vanitas is just waiting for one of them to snap. “It’s this or sunscreen.”

“Oh gosh, you must  _ burn _ .”

Roxas snorts and pushes her off. “Poor Vanitas, so white and asking for a sunburn.”

Vanitas flips him off one-handed. “I’ll tell my parents to be from further south next time.”

“Are you guys keeping score?” Sora leans on Vanitas’s shoulder and grabs their card. “Vanitas insisted since he’s the most competitive person alive.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“See?” Sora waves the card at him. Vanitas slaps it out of his hand and Sora laughs. “But really, please tell me you guys aren’t competing too. We’ll get kicked out.”

Xion smiles at him so very nicely. “We’re not.”

“Xion is definitely going to keep score now that she knows you are.” Roxas sighs and slings his putter over his shoulders. “Sora, let’s defect and just have fun.” He leans to the side as Sora loops an arm over one end of his putter. 

Vanitas shakes his head at all of them and moves to knock his ball into the hole. He can feel someone’s eyes and looks over his shoulder. Xion is watching him and as their gazes meet, she taps her fingers on her putter. “So,” she says quietly, “what’s your score?”

“We’re screwed,” Sora mutters.

“I only compete with family. It saves bloodshed.” Vanitas grabs his ball and moves toward the next hole. “Enjoy trying to beat Sora.” And his own high point count will remain his secret shame.

Xion sighs. “Nobody beats Sora.”

Roxas drops his ball onto the start and shrugs Sora off. “Come on, that’s not entirely true. Riku and Kairi give him a run for his money.”

“Yeah, a  _ run _ .”

“We don’t have to play to a winner, you know.” Sora sticks his tongue out. “Let’s just play and have a good time!” He hops across the space between the holes to rejoin Vanitas.

* * *

It’s weird watching Sora and Vanitas interact. Xion has been watching, not in a weird way even though Roxas keeps nudging her to stop. Sora acts the same way as always, friendly, cheerful, hanging off them casually. Vanitas doesn’t bat an eye anytime Sora lands on his shoulder or slumps into him. He just blinks, that same almost bored expression on his face. It’s not that different from him at work.

Except, except sometimes Sora will make some comment to Vanitas, some joke, and for a moment she can see a smile flicker onto Vanitas’s face. He’ll elbow Sora or poke him in the side and it’ll be gone, but it’s so...warm just for a second. That weird sense of sadness that follows Vanitas around at work doesn’t seem to be here.

Xion hums and taps the end of her putter against her chin as she watches him stick a foot out and almost trip his brother. Sora hops over it and tells Vanitas to take his fourth shot on their current hole.

That is the one other thing she’s gathered: Vanitas sucks at mini-golf. Like  _ really _ sucks. Which is pretty sad since it seems like he’s actually trying. He watches Sora take shots and then just completely sucks at them when it’s his turn. Xion is doing her best not to laugh.

Chewing at his gum, Vanitas takes the shot and it finally goes across the deck of the wrecked pirate ship and into the hole. He huffs and makes a note of it on the card. He’s not showing it to anyone else, but it seems to be annoying him anyway. It goes back into his jacket pocket and out comes his phone as Sora and Roxas set up at hole ten. Xion isn’t  _ staring _ , but she does notice the way his face falls into the more familiar lines she sees at work.

It’s not nearly so nice as what she’s seen between him and Sora. Xion steps closer and pretends she’s been looking at the other two the whole time. “Hey, Vanitas, how old are you?”

He looks up, eyebrows furrowing. “Uh, twenty, why?”

“Just wondering. You don’t seem that old.”

“Not all of us have Sora’s baby face.” Vanitas pockets his phone and rests his putter against his shoulder. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” she says with a grin. “I’ve got the same baby face as Sora.”

“Yeah, you do. I thought you and Roxas were like...fourteen.”

Xion snorts. “Fourteen and working those hours? Pretty sure Isa would be fuming if we were breaking child labor laws.” She starts forward and is glad when Vanitas does the same. “It’s been a couple years and I have no idea what Axel sees in him.”

Vanitas shrugs. “Axel can’t count?”

“He  _ bakes _ .”

“Trust me, that’s not counting.” Vanitas looks up as a bird flies right overhead. Smarter than the average tourist, but still looking to get it right in the eye. “And he barely measures. He’s always throwing stuff together without even looking and somehow it turns out. It drives me crazy.”

Xion grins. “I can’t believe you haven’t quit.”

“I’ve got shit to pay for and it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever tolerated. It’s just  _ annoying _ especially when I want a recipe and he has to dig it out. Which was most of the first week.” Vanitas rolls his eyes. 

“Axel is a great person, but also kind of an idiot. Isa called him an idiot savant once and Axel smacked his shoulder. He was blushing.” Xion will not let Axel forget it. They stop behind Roxas as he tries to line up a proper shot through a steampunk castle. “We go out after work sometimes and share work horror stories.”

Vanitas arches an eyebrow. “From  _ this _ job?”

Roxas smacks his ball and it bounces off the castle wall. He sighs. “Oh yeah. Xion, did you tell him about the taffy experiment?”

She groans. “Oh god. I’ve tried to forget.” She shakes her head as Sora laughs.

“Do I want to know or is this another wrecking ball Kairi-like story?” Vanitas leans on his putter.

Xion shakes her head again. “For once, this has nothing to do with Kairi. Axel just got it in his head one day that a beach-side bakery should also sell some candies. Spare people from going to two shops, you know? Except, he doesn’t know anything about making taffy. None of us did.”

“None of us know  _ now _ ,” Roxas says. “I think that was a two-days gone Axel.”

“Has to be.”

Vanitas snorts. “He’s that kind of insomniac, huh?”

“Sometimes.” Roxas grins at him. “Sometimes, we can convince him to do all kinds of shit right before he passes out in the office.”

Xion shakes her head. “No, no, hold on, we’re doing taffy now that you brought it back into my consciousness.” She looks at Vanitas who arches an eyebrow, waiting. She takes a deep breath. “So, Naminé is the one who really gets technical manuals so she’s reading instructions as they go to prep the taffy puller. Axel and Isa have it put together and we’re just trying to do a test run.”

“Naminé moves closer to take a look at something and Axel doesn’t even check before he flips it on to see if it moves right. It grabbed the sleeve of the jacket she had around her waist and yanked her right against it.” Xion shudders. “Axel was gaping and Isa grabbed her so she wasn’t getting smacked and then the whole thing made this awful groaning noise and spit smoke everywhere. It was the  _ worst. _ ”

“I’m regularly shocked Naminé still helps Axel out.” Roxas makes a face. “I would have quit.”

Xion grins at the memory of Naminé’s face and the empty tone of voice she used immediately after. “She did say that she was going home and would be back for her next shift in two days. Nobody argued. Even Isa seemed scared of her."

“Fucking hell.” Vanitas tugs at the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m going to keep putting this in Isa’s damn cell of an office if this shit happens. What happened to the taffy puller?”

“It’s rotting in upstairs storage where any future victims won’t ever find it.” Xion folds her hands together as Roxas and Sora laugh.

Vanitas looks at Sora and smirks widely. “I’m bringing it home.”

Sora groans. “Vanitas, no! Come on! I don’t want a killer taffy machine in the house!”

“Why? If we get it working, we make our own taffy.”

“Big deal! It’s not worth maybe dying! Think of the smoke too, it’s probably beyond busted.”

His brother seems undeterred and shrugs. He drops his ball on the starting spot and doesn’t even glance at the hole before smacking it. “I’m doing it.”

Sora slumps against his back as the ball disappears into the castle with a hollow echoing sound. “I hate you. Worst brother.”

“That’s me.” Vanitas flicks him in the forehead and his face is the most relaxed Xion has ever seen.

Vanitas’s ball pops out the other side and drops into the hole. He’s too busy messing with Sora to notice. Xion drops her ball into place and takes her swing. The point is already hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you figured out my actual theme for the course, I love you.
> 
> I'm so excited for the next chapter. Ven will FINALLY make his appearance, so look forward to it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally updates the character tags to include Ventus

Perfectly iced cake pieces and crumbling brownies, little tarts and cupcakes with shining stars of sprinkles, the display case is a wondrous place that would make the residents of Candyland weep. Olette slides the back open and starts to carefully place some fresh donuts in neat rows, making the wonderland that much sweeter.

Ventus gives up and drops his face onto the top of the case and groans like he’s dying. “This is so unfaiiiiiir.”

Olette hums and keeps working, entirely too used to this. Ven lifts his head and frowns at her. “You could be sympathetic?”

“I’m very sorry, sir,” she says robotically and then grins up at him.

He upgrades the frown to a scowl. “You do not understand how I’ve suffered. I am always suffering and you do not appreciate it.”

“You walk yourself in here. You’ve only got yourself to blame for this suffering. You  _ know _ this, Ven.”

Ven sticks his tongue out. “I don’t appreciate your lack of empathy. Get your manager. I want to file another formal complaint.”

Olette laughs and stands up. “Okay, okay.” She pulls off her gloves and swings the door to the kitchen open just wide enough for her head. “Axel! Formal complaint for you!” There’s a muffled response that sounds like swearing and she lets the door shut again. “Just a moment, sir.”

Grinning, Ven swings himself into a seat at the empty part of the counter. “I’ll take one of the bottles of water if you’ve got a minute, Olette.” He pushes a bill towards her.

“Sure! Especially if it makes the complaint just a bit smaller.”

“I’d never complain about you! This is a complaint directly for the owner, awful, terrible person that he is.” Ven sips from his water and turns his nose up. Olette laughs

The door to the back opens and Axel is running a hand through his hair. “Hi, thank you for waiting. I’m sorry about the issue. How can I help- Ven, are you  _ kidding _ me?” The second Axel spots him, all the formality drops off him. He messes up his hair from the forced downess. “Fucker.”

Ven shakes his head, serious expression back on. “I would like to lodge a formal complaint.”

“I’m sure it’s the exact same as your last one.” Axel slumps against the wall. “Fine, go ahead.”

He takes a sip of water, clears his throat, and then makes eye contact with Axel with the coldest of looks he can summon. “Fuck you and your buffet of desserts.”

Axel yawns. “Yeah, thanks. Totally noted. I know we have sugar-free stuff made fresh because I did some this morning.”

Ven looks longingly down the counter. “But all the rest…”

“Yeah, yeah, you shouldn’t even be breathing in here really.” Axel comes over and ruffles his hair. “Go back to school.”

“I just got home for the summer! I thought you’d miss me!” Ven grins at him, not even worried about his hair. “I’m your favorite customer.”

Olette looks over at them. “No, we changed your picture out with that one stray cat that hangs around near the front windows.”

Axel nods. “Mr. Kibbles. Best customer I’ve ever had, only complains about the lack of a free flowing fountain.”

“I’d have to be heartless to complain about that,” Ven says with a sigh. “I’m so glad to be off school for the summer. I love my new courses, but it’s been stressful.” He sticks his tongue out.

“What did you switch to?” Axel moves to the small drink fridge, pulling out a bottle of tea for himself. 

“Astronomy. It’s so  _ cool _ . I got into History of the Universe this semester and it was so much to learn, but also really cool. You don’t think about how old stuff is, right? But it’s all so old and we’re made up of the same atoms as this stuff! We’re recycled and old too!” Ven grins at them, eyes bright.

Olette shrugs. “I’m sixteen.”

“I’m too old already to worry about the age of my atoms,” Axel bemoans. “Don’t tell me more, Ven.”

“You guys are the opposite of fun. We’re literally made of star stuff.” Ven makes a face at Axel. “That makes it way better than just being old.”

Axel leans forward and messes up his hair again. “I think your brain is full of stars. Come back to earth!”

Ven slaps at his hands as Axel laughs and tugs one of his ears instead. Ven punches at his stomach, forcing Axel to back up again. Huffing at him, Ven pushes his hair out of his face. “You’re such a jerk. I’m going to live in space and no one can stop me.” No matter how much his dad puts on the disappointed-with-him tone and wants to have another discussion about his future. He frowns at the display and wishes things were just a bit more sugar-coated.

Pouting does him no good. He’s made his decision and he’s sticking with it. He’s an adult now and his dad can’t make him change his major back. Ven sits up straight again, determined to make another excellent choice and get himself a cookie.

Something in the kitchen makes an awful whirring noise and then a bang. They all look towards the door as swearing follows. It slams open under a hand and a person coated in what looks like frosting from head to waist marches out. They turn, wipe a hand down their face to clear some of the frosting, and fling it at Axel’s feet.

Olette is muffling laughter with both hands and her face is starting to redden. Axel is grinning and leans casually against the counter. “So, did you overload the mixer like I told you not to?”

“Fuck you.” The voice comes out like a growl, a true frosting monster. It makes Ven burst into laughter that he only barely tries to cover.

They turn to glare at him and he can see their eyes widen. His narrow, laughter dying. Under the frosting the face seems...familiar. Ven tips his head slightly. “Hey, do I know you?”

“You’ve had to at least heard of him. You said Roxas complains about everyone when he gets home, right?” Axel motions between them. “Ven, Vanitas. Vanitas, Roxas’s brother and my second-best, if whiny, customer, Ven.”

Ven blinks rapidly. “Vanitas?” There’s no way. There’s absolutely no way that it’s  _ him. _

Vanitas, if not the same, shakes his head and backs up. “I’m taking fifteen,” he says, voice harsh, and then he disappears into the back.

“Huh.” Axel scratches the back of his head. “That was…”

“Weird,” Olette finishes. They both turn to look at Ven. “Do you know him?”

Ven shakes his head, slower than Vanitas did. “No, it, he must be somebody else.” There’s no way that obnoxious, smug bastard was now working for Axel. There’s no way somebody like him would be so quick to leave the room instead of mocking him, covered in frosting or no. It’s definitely a different Vanitas.

Still, his stomach knots up. “I uh, gotta go.” He slides off the stool and hurries toward the door, glancing back only once. “Later!”

He sees the two of them wave and then he’s out the door. The ocean air is always cool and fresh and he breathes it in deeply. He’s at home, not school, and there’s no way the worst person Ventus has ever met is here. No son of  _ Xehanort _ would ever be caught dead in a town this small and insignificant.

Ven shakes his head and tells himself it’s just a weird coincidence. There’s gotta be more than one person who would think a name like Vanitas would be a good one for their kid. 

He pulls himself up onto the rail of the boardwalk, legs swinging over the beach grass and sand. Somewhere nearby someone’s playing a pleasant little song. Ven breathes in and then out and then smiles out at the water. Maybe Terra’s up for company for the rest of his shift. He drops down onto the sand and heads for the water, leaving any memories of mocking laughter behind him where they belong.

* * *

The universe is laughing at him.

He’s getting really fucking sick of it.

Sitting on the back steps of the bakery, Vanitas tells himself that it’s fine. He can deal with this. He’s dealt with worse, more annoying things.

Except that this was supposed to be his place to toss everything else out and just live  _ here. _ He can’t really fucking do that if Ventus goddamn Wayfynd lives in the same fucking town. Pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes, Vanitas fights back a scream. He’s keeping his temper, he’s keeping his cool. The frosting still all over his face is definitely not helping.

_ It’s fine. It’s totally fine. It’s not like he’s going to tell  _ **_him_ ** _ where you are. Breathe, always keep breathing. _

Vanitas exhales and flicks a bit more frosting from his face. He stares blankly at the ground and then does the only thing he can think of. He pulls his phone out and hits call on the number at the top of his recents without a second thought. It rings once, twice, and then there’s a click. “Vanitas?”

“Have you told him? Has he asked?” The questions burst out harshly. Vanitas fists his free hand into his hair and squeezes his eyes shut. 

There’s a long pause and then the sound of movement on the other side of the line. A click and then he can vaguely hear the wind. “No, he hasn’t asked me. I don’t think he knows or has not deigned to inform us. Are you alright?” Xemnas’s voice is always deep, mostly cold, but Vanitas relaxes the more he talks.

He sighs in relief and drops his head forward. “Fine.”

“Then call and tell me that next time. Anybody could take your phone and text me.” There’s the anger he was expecting. Too bad, Xemnas can be mad.

Vanitas hums something noncommittal and breathes again. “I know. I just didn’t want...anything to tip him off.”

Xemnas sighs. “He’s not all-seeing. He can’t check my phone records.”

_ He could, if he really wanted to. _ Vanitas shakes his head. “Yeah, okay, sorry. I should have called.”

Silence settles between them and Vanitas lifts his head enough to look down the alley towards the boardwalk. He can hear the waves from here. The frantic pulse of his heart starts to slow.

Xemnas shifts on his side of the line. “Is everything alright there? She’s alright with you?”

“Akemi? Yeah, she’s fine. Always said I should stay with her for a bit. I’m paying her back with groceries and stuff.” Vanitas glances behind him at the sound of footsteps, but they turn into the office instead of coming to the back door. “No, I don’t know for how long,” he answers before the question can be asked.

“Well if you need anything...we can figure something out.”

Help from  _ him _ even without him knowing. It tastes like ash in his mouth. Vanitas hums rather than outright refuse something he might very well need when charity runs dry. “You’d hate it here,” he says instead. “Everybody’s a beach bum type.”

Xemnas sniffs. “Do any of them own real shoes? Maybe we can ship Ansem off to his version of heaven there.”

Vanitas snorts. “You’d never get him to leave. Shirts are optional everywhere, I think.”

“I won’t tell him about it. I need him here for now.”

He pulls a leg up and wraps his arm around it. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s a great distraction. If he suddenly disappears, it’s probably my fault.”

“I will never be able to forgive the two of you.” He can hear Xemnas’s very slight smile.

Vanitas’s lips quirk too. “Yeah, yeah, betrayed by your own blood. I better get back to work. I’m only supposed to be on a short break.”

“Enjoy the inanity of whatever you’ve chosen.”

Wiping a bit of frosting off his shirt, Vanitas grins. “Let’s just say it’s your one weakness.”

“Of course it is. Be safe, Vanitas.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Dropping his phone into his lap, Vanitas tips his head back and exhales. 

_ He doesn’t know. I’m still free. _

_ And Ventus being here doesn’t change a thing.  _

He’s here to work. They won’t ever interact. And when Ventus goes back in the fall, well, who’s he going to tell?

Vanitas stands up, phone back in his pocket, and grabs the door. Axel is leaning against the door to the office, scribbling something on a notepad. He looks up and grins at him. “Nice clean up. You’re still covered.”

Tiredly, Vanitas makes a face at him. “What am I supposed to do, jump in the ocean in my clothes?”

“You wouldn’t be the first.” Axel waves a hand. “But whatever, I got the kitchen cleaned up. We need to replace that mixer in the next couple months. But, we’re almost a third through the cupcakes!”

“I have never hated a baked good more in my life.” Vanitas passes him, heading back towards the kitchen. “A curse on your sister’s house.”

“Very witchy, do you book Halloween parties?” Axel follows him down the hall, giving his own witchy cackle.

By the time they reach the kitchen, Vanitas can almost forget the knot in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3c
> 
> back to Demyx next time


	7. Chapter 7

Early evening is officially Demyx’s favorite time on the boardwalk now. The air’s cooler, the lights are bright, and people tend to be a bit more pleasant to anyone adding to the atmosphere. Nothing quite compares to playing a song and getting a whole group of high schoolers singing it as they dance past you. There’s just the  _ best _ energy in the air.

With a final strum, Demyx lifts his arm into the air. Several people clap for him and he gives them a little bow. A couple laugh and the small group moves on. Leaning back against the rail, Demyx smiles up at the flashing signs across the way from him. Only a candy shop would make its sign look like an amusement park. Still, it works on him; he’s tempted to check it out.

He sets his sitar aside and bends down to gather the bills that have been tossed into her case. There’s a pretty decent amount, enough worth keeping from some jerkwad who might run past and snatch the whole case. Demyx taps the bills into a pile and then tucks them into the inside pocket of his jacket. There, safe.

The water bottle some cute person bought for him is still half-full and he takes a long drink from it. He loves when people appreciate him enough to keep him hydrated. So much money could go just into water bottles. Humanity needs to make the ocean drinkable already.

His stomach rumbles and he surveys the boardwalk, debating if the break is worth it. He’s been out here for a while, so people might notice more when he comes back… The second stomach growl seals it. He’s made enough to afford a break.

He packs up his sitar carefully and slings her over his back. Pocket comfortably full with a bunch of singles, Demyx eyes the closest shops. The candy store, while tempting, is not real food. He’s had a fucking lot of pizza in his life and it’s easier to eat that between songs. He kinda wants something more, which really only leaves the burger place squeezed between an escape room and one of a dozen ice cream shops.

They’ve only got a couple inside tables, but it’s not a rush time. Demyx winds around two empty spots and up to the counter. Behind it, a friendly looking girl in a pink headscarf taps at her phone. Whatever is on it gives a cute little jingle and she laughs. Demyx smiles on reflex, always happy to be around people who aren’t in a foul mood. “Having fun?”

She looks up, one hand covering her mouth in surprise. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t see you come in! I’m so sorry.” The phone is quickly shoved in her pocket and she straightens her name tag. “Hi, how can I help you?”

Demyx waves a hand at her. “It’s fine! Now, I gotta know what you were doing. Texting somebody cute?”

She blows a raspberry at him. “Ugh,  _ no _ . I was just giving one of my cat villagers a gift…” It trails off in a mumble and her cheeks are going red.

“Ohhhh, fun!” He has no idea what the app is like, but hey, who hates befriending cute animal villagers? “Well, I’ll make it quick. Can I get a double no onions?” Demyx pulls out his stack and carefully counts a few off.

She rings him up with a quick motion and then tips her head, smiling at him. “A drink?”

“What have you got that’s really tempting?”

She points at a mini-fridge sitting on the end of the counter. “Best sodas ever. The owner gets them imported.”

Demyx’s eyebrows go up. “Okay, that’s really tempting, but also expensive sounding.”

“No, you can get one for three bucks. Same as any regular drink.” She swirls a finger next to her head. “He’s a little crazy.”

“If it’s in my favor, I’ll take it. Gimme something blue.”

“You got it!” She adds it to his total and then goes to grab one of the bottles. The hood of her jacket has little grey ears sticking off of it as it hangs behind her. God, Demyx would so adopt this kid. She brings it over and plops it into his hand. “Trust me, totally worth it.”

Demyx gives her a little bow. “I always trust a lady’s judgment.”

She sticks her tongue out. “Ew, I’m at work. Don’t make me call security.” She’s clearly kidding as she smiles at him. “It’ll just be a minute.” Taking the ticket, she puts it on a spinner set in the window. “Order up!”

“Better not be another party of ten!” someone calls back.

Whistling cheerfully as he thinks about how he could eat for ten, Demyx takes a seat. His sitar gets the seat beside him, set where he can grab it and be free of the chair in a moment’s notice. He doubts it’ll happen this time, but managers are always different from regular staff, especially if a crowd comes in.

The cashier goes back to her phone, smiling at whatever’s on screen. He could ask her more about it, but...nah. Let her enjoy it without an obnoxious customer demanding more stuff from her. Demyx pops the top of his drink and gives it a sniff. Ah yes, the refreshing smell of  _ blue. _ It actually tastes like blueberries which is a nice change from the constant flood of strawberries and watermelons. He sips at it, looking around at the brightly painted walls and weird number of clocks. Weird theme for a burger place, but whatever, he doesn’t work here.

Laughter and footsteps are a near constant from the boardwalk, easy to tune out as decent background noise. Sounds like somebody brought a fiddle. Maybe they’d be up for a duet or a fun little back and forth. People  _ always _ eat that up.

Demyx sighs at himself and looks up at the ceiling. If only he could stop thinking about work for a bit. Ha, that’s for people with financial security. He’s just glad it’s summer so he’s not shivering all night. It’s the little things that really make the transient life great. Unable to stop being sarcastic even in his head, Demyx takes a big gulp of blue.

Someone passes behind him, not close enough to touch, but within the area he considers  _ not comfortable _ . Demyx jerks upright, but they’re already past him and coming up to the counter. The girl smiles at them. “Good evening, Mr. Iskald. How can I help you?”

They push long, pale blond hair back over their shoulder and frown up at the menu. Demyx’s alarms go off. He avoids authority figures and this person’s face is a fricking textbook example of severe. He does not want to deal with this.  _ Calm down, _ he tells himself.  _ You’re waiting for food that you paid for. He can’t do anything. _

Still, large severe looking white man? He’s keeping his mouth  _ shut _ until they’re gone. He hunches a little and tries to look super invested in his drink.

“Aeleus and Dilan would throw a fit, so nothing for them tonight. I need to stay up for a special project.”

“Ohhh, are you working with another night blooming flower?”

“Not precisely a flower, but something similar, yes. If it proves a success, I’ll be sure to invite a few people who would appreciate it to the next possible blooming.” The man pulls a wallet from his pocket. “So, a large fry, one of the chicken sandwiches, and my usual tea.”

The cashier rings it all up. “You’re still the only person besides the owner who drinks it, you know? We’ll never run out.”

“Good news for me then. If he seems inclined to pull it, let me know. I’ll need to buy some of the stock.” The dude  _ smiles _ at her and it takes some of the worst of his face away.

Demyx arches an eyebrow. Okay, they can’t be that bad if they can talk nicely to the girl working the register about plants. Huh, is he some kind of florist?

“Anything for Ienzo?” She tips her head with a smirk like she already knows the answer.

The man sighs. “You know him. I told him I’d get him one of those awful sodas. And he wonders why he can never wake up in the morning.”

“It’s your fault as his dad for not teaching him better!” She sticks her tongue out and goes to grab a pink one from the mini-fridge.

Ienzo is not a common name. There’s no fucking way. Demyx looks at the guy again. They don’t really look alike, but hey, what does he know. She did say  _ dad _ .

His mouth is always faster than his brain. “Do you work at that flower shop nearby?”

The man turns, one eyebrow arched. “In a way. I co-own it.”

Demyx goes red. “Oh, oh, sorry, right, yeah, of course.” He’s stuttering and blathering like an idiot.  _ Ha ha what is the fucking plan here other than embarrassing yourself? _ He clears his throat. “I was in there for the first time the other day. Really cool place.”

“You...were in our shop?”

“What a guy like me can’t like flowers?” Demyx frowns slightly. Here it comes.

The man shrugs. “No, nothing like that. I’m simply surprised...we don’t get new customers that often. I would have thought I’d have heard from the staff about you.”

Demyx rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I did anything to make a scene.”

“You’d be surprised how much gets talked about.” The man shakes his head and then steps closer. He offers a hand. “I’m Even Iskald. I hope you found whatever you needed.”

_ Weirdo. _ He takes the hand anyway and gives it a shake. It’s kinda chilly for a guy in a long-sleeved shirt and vest on the boardwalk. “Demyx. It was fine. The lily lasted a good amount of time considering I didn’t have water for it.” He drinks that, thanks.

Something flickers in Even’s eyes and he nods. “We try to make them hardy for anyone taking a drive home.”

“Really? How’s that work?” Demyx didn’t notice anything special about it. It seemed like a normal flower from a guy who wanted to jab him with something sharp.

Even straightens a bit and Demyx knows the face of a lecturing teacher. He braces for way too many words that he doesn’t care about. Unsurprisingly, they come. He hears something about breeding and daily care and time of cutting and nods along.

“Order up!” Someone calls from the back and a tray is pushed into the window.

Demyx brightens. “That’s me. Super interesting, thanks for sharing!”

Even arches an eyebrow. “Right, of course. Enjoy your food.”

He can feel the eyes on the back of his head as he takes the tray from the girl. She’s grinning at him and leans forward as he takes one side of the tray. “Never ask him about flowers or you’ll never get anywhere else with your day.” She winks and Demyx gives her a tired smile.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Anytime! Aced, hurry up with the other order. It’s for Mister Iskald!”

“He can wait like everybody damn else does! Or everybody can have cold food that we made hours ago!”

Snorting, Demyx goes back to his seat. He about throws the tray when he sees the man reaching for his sitar case. “Hey!”

Even pulls his hand back. “That’s not a traditional guitar case.”

“Because it’s not a guitar. It’s also _ fragile _ so don’t grab it.” Demyx sets the tray down and puts a hand on the case. Possessive? Hell yeah. He doesn’t have much and he’s going to protect her with his life. Music is what he’s got and all he loves.

The man looks at him and then nods. “Of course. My apologies. What instrument is it?”

“It’s a sitar.”

“Very nontraditional. How did you learn to play?”

Demyx takes a seat, one hand still on the case. “When I was a kid, like most people. Just had weirder parents.”

“Of course. Well, I’ve never heard one live so if you’ll be ar-.”

“Mr. Iskald? Your food’s ready!”

Even sighs. “Right, yes, I best get back before Ienzo starts bothering me about it. Have a good evening, Demyx. I hope to hear you instead of the next foul flutist around.” He gives a gesture that could be a lazy wave and then moves to take two bags from the counter.

Demyx shakes his head and picks up his burger. “Sure, right.” Maybe it wasn’t just him. Maybe Ienzo has the social skills of a weirdo florist who gives backward sort of compliments. He watches Even leave and then takes a bite. 

At least the burger is good. Demyx leans back in the chair far enough to lift the front legs off the ground. Outside, he can still hear someone on the fiddle giving it their best and a few people trying to clap to a beat.

So maybe everyone’s a bit weird. Not like he’s interested in being normal. Taking a sip of his electric blue drink, Demyx hums along to the song, plans tumbling around in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Even Kingdomhearts Iskald so much and this is only the beginning.


	8. Chapter 8

“Vanitas, hey!” 

Axel is grinning in a way that makes Vanitas stop what he’s doing, waiting for the pronouncement of a fire. His boss waves a paper. “Got your first check for you.”

He relaxes slightly. A paycheck is a fine thing, normal. He needs to stop waiting for some kind of weird fallout from the other day. He took a break; it’s allowed. “Cool, thanks.” Vanitas reaches for it and Axel holds it up over his head, a considerable distance.

“Hold on. Before I hand it over, I have a request.”

“I will report you to a labor union.” Vanitas crosses his arms over his chest instead of embarrassing himself by trying to reach for it. “What.”

Axel shakes his head. “I’m not withholding it, geez. I just want you to listen to me.”

Vanitas doesn’t roll his eyes. He stares, waiting.

“Great! So, I need an extra pair of hands to go with me early tomorrow. We need some fresh local produce and the competition gets fierce.” Axel lowers the check. “Come with me to help get the stuff and I’ll pay you for being on the clock.”

“You don’t have to make me listen to an offer for extra hours.” Vanitas holds a hand out. “What time tomorrow?”

“I need you here at six am.” Axel drops the check into his hand. “Should only take a couple hours then we’ll come unload everything here.”

Vanitas frowns. A couple hours? Must be some kind of big farmer’s market. Maybe his mom knows it. Well, whatever. As long as it keeps him employed. “Sure. Here at six. I’ll be there.”

“Great!” Axel washes his hands with a few quick scrubs. “So, what needs done before you clock out?”

“Snickerdoodles.” Vanitas gestures to the mixer and the array of spices lined up beside it. “You said people expect them every other Wednesday.” He likes Axel’s constantly shifting offerings. There are staples, of course, things they always stock, but having things change throughout the week keeps the work from going, rather appropriately, stale.

Axel unscrews the cinnamon and knocks it against the edge of the bowl. The pungent smell drifts through the air and Vanitas coughs. He tried the cinnamon challenge  _ once _ and is thankful he still likes the flavor of it after that burning hell.

Opening the others, Axel doesn’t even measure as he adds the spices together. “You’ve got the schedule pretty well.”

Vanitas can feel himself flush and curses his pale skin, not for the first time. “I wrote it down,” he mutters.

Axel shrugs. “Still. Bet you’re a way better student than I was.”

“Didn’t you drop out of high school.”

“Hey! I got my GED.”

“So, you’re not a bad student.” Vanitas shrugs. “I’m definitely not a good student.” Not a student at all anymore.

Axel looks at him, a crease between his eyebrows, but then it’s gone as he waves Vanitas closer. “Good thing you’re a good baker then. Come here and let me show you the best way to make sure the spices end up blended throughout the dough.”

Vanitas moves in beside him at the mixer and shoves all thoughts of school out of his mind.

* * *

Six am is actually an almost rational time, so when his alarm goes off at five, Vanitas is already half-awake. He hits the alarm off and pulls his hand back under the blanket anyway, enjoying the feeling of actually getting some damn sleep last night.

Blob, who’s curled up on the other pillow, furry butt practically in his face, meows. Vanitas pats him. “No, not getting up yet.” The cat immediately starts purring and rolls onto his side. Obligingly, Vanitas pets him, eyes closing again. He can feel the lump of another cat at his feet, giving off heat like an oven. This is the best part, the safest place he’s felt besides-.

_ Bam, bam, bam! _

“Sora, up you get!”

The noise comes from just down the hall and Vanitas jumps. His fingers squeeze Blob’s fur and the cat lifts his head with a  _ mrrp? _ He relaxes his hand and exhales. “It’s fine,” he mumbles. “Just mom kicking Sora out of bed.” Blob turns around anyway and licks his fingers. “Thanks.”

A much gentler knock is made on his door. “Vanitas? You said they needed you at six. I’ve got coffee done downstairs.”

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay! Sora, up!”

Vanitas sighs as he drops his head against his pillow. He looks at Blob’s bright yellow eyes and wrinkles his nose. “I think he could sleep through the apocalypse. Wish I could fucking manage more than five hours a night.” Blob just blinks at him. “Yeah, yeah, love you too, you fucking monster.”

He finally sits up, combing his fingers through his hair. His weighted blanket makes its usual noise as he shoves it off, remembering at the last second to not flip it over whichever cat is at his feet. One ear has a bright white spot which means that it’s Trucker that lifts his head, tail flicking. Vanitas rubs between his ears before standing up. He can hear the sounds of Sora staggering down the hall into the bathroom and snorts. No doubt by the time he makes it downstairs, Sora will be wide awake, but until then a zombie walks the halls.

He showers at night, washing off all the dirt of the day, so Vanitas moves straight to getting dressed. Whatever these hours are for, he’s betting he’ll be outside which means long-sleeves. Let people stare, he  _ hates _ sunburns, but hates the feeling of sunscreen too. Suitably dressed, he grabs his wallet and heads downstairs for coffee. He can still hear the shower going, so Sora will be waylaid for a bit.

Blob goes darting past him to race down the stairs, his finely tuned senses picking up on the rattle of dry food going into his bowl. Vanitas takes the stairs much slower, covering a yawn. He’s got time for coffee and then he’s got to get to the bakery for whatever grocery run Axel wants his help with.

Akemi waves as he makes it into the kitchen. The table is loaded with a pitcher of orange juice, a plate of cut fresh fruit, and more eggs than anybody could ever eat. Vanitas steals a piece of fruit as he passes and goes right for the coffee pot. A travel mug is already out beside it and he swallows quickly. “Thanks, mom.”

“Of course, of course. Do you think Blob would eat some pineapple?”

“Probably, so don’t give it to him.” The coffee smells perfect and Vanitas breathes in the smell before finding the lid.

Akemi mumbles something to the cat, rubbing his back as he eats from his bowl noisily. She stands up and catches Vanitas’s shoulders for a quick hug. He leans into her and then eyes the table again. “Anything not cut up?”

“Take one of the oranges with you and something for Axel.” Akemi pats his shoulder and then moves toward the coffee pot for herself.

Vanitas scoops up an orange and eyes the rest of the fruit. He grabs a whole apple and pockets it, sure that he’ll hear some comment about it. Coffee in one hand, orange in the other, Vanitas moves toward the door. “I’ll text you when I’m on the way back.”

“Thank you! Have a good day, Vani!”

He flushes automatically at the nickname and turns to go. Sora about bangs right into him and jumps quickly to the side. Sora yawns and then waves to him. “See you later.”

Vanitas shoves his orange in his pocket too and ruffles Sora’s hair. “Have fun saving idiots from the ocean.”

“I’m teaching a swim class today with kids. Should be better than that.” Sora grins at him and then heads for the breakfast table.

Sipping from his coffee, Vanitas stops to get his shoes on, and then slips out the already unlocked door. The street is mostly empty, a few sleepy people out with their dogs or climbing into their cars. He joins the trickle heading toward work and the boardwalk. He eyes one man with bright sleeves of tattoos who goes jogging right past him, a large white dog at his heels, but the guy just nods and moves on. The dog doesn’t even spare him a glance.

If he’s finally part of the background, he’ll be pretty damn well pleased.

He looks down the block at the next intersection and can see the beach, the sun having broken the horizon and turning the sky all pink and pale blue. The always nice weather continues and he wonders when the usual rainstorms will roll in. He could use a days long storm to relax.

His steps bring him almost robotically to the bakery and he doesn’t even have to circle around the back. Axel’s waiting at one of the tables set outside, talking to Isa. Isa notices him first and waves him over.

“Morning,” Vanitas says to be polite. “Axel, mom made me bring you a snack.” He tosses the apple to him and Axel grins at it. 

“No arguing with her. Nothing for Isa?”

“Didn’t know he’d be here.”

“I’m fine,” Isa says, shaking his head. His hair is pulled back in a long braid, the end hanging over one shoulder. He gestures to the table where they’ve got a couple of muffins waiting. “Axel and your mother are of the same mind. We’ve got a few minutes before you need to leave, so please sit.”

Vanitas takes a long sip of coffee, debating, and then takes the third seat at the table. “You’re coming too?”

Isa shakes his head. “I’m to keep the bakery running in Axel’s absence. He was just reminding me of the menu.”

“How long have you two worked together?” Vanitas arches an eyebrow.

“Ages!” Axel throws his hands up. “And he has absolutely no sense for the bakery, Vanitas. Oh, he can run the register and do taxes, but ask him what we sell and he stares at me blankly and then says-.”

“Baked goods,” Isa finishes and then smirks. “Which is the truth.”

Vanitas snorts as Axel makes a noise of disgust. “He’s not wrong.”

“But he’s not  _ right _ either.” Axel picks up a cup and takes a sip, glaring at Isa. “You’re lucky I keep lists.”

“Yes, incredibly lucky.” Isa picks up a paper from between them. “Vanitas, you are quite the tolerant employee to do this.”

Vanitas shrugs, looking between the two of them. “It’s my job.”

Axel flips Isa off and then leans back in his chair. “He’s not talking about the baking. He’s talking about dealing with me. Asshole.”

“Yes.” Isa taps the papers together, takes a muffin, and then stands. “I better go review my study materials. Xion’s probably here already and getting things ready to open.”

“Make her quiz you!” Axel calls after him. “Ugh, pain in my ass.”

Well, he’s been wondering. “You guys have known each other for a long time.” It’s not a question; that’s obvious. Vanitas eyes the other muffin and then takes it. “Should we get going?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve got a ways to go.” Axel stands, messing up his hair on top. “Car’s parked over here, come on. And yeah, Isa and I have known each other since we were like...five? I don’t know, who really remembers that far back.”

“My brother, probably.” Vanitas rolls his eyes.

Axel looks at him in surprise. “Sora? Really? I always thought he was kinda...in the moment.”

_ Fuck. _ “Ah, yeah, no, I didn’t mean...him.” Vanitas looks away. “Different person. Never forgets a thing or so he says.”

There’s no immediate answer and then Axel hums. “Huh. Sounds like Isa. Total pain in the ass.” Vanitas can just see his smile out of the corner of his eye and tells himself to relax.  _ It’s fine. Axel won’t ask about all of that. _

He manages a shrug. “Yeah, basically.” He refuses to share more. It’s all too traceable.

Axel jingles his keys as they reach the car, an unsurprisingly red thing that looks way too small for Axel. Vanitas looks at him, looks at it, and then back at Axel. “Is this a clown car and has hidden leg room inside?”

“I fucking  _ wish _ ,” Axel says with feeling. “Isa’s bike doesn’t work for everything, so here we are, squishing into this damn thing.” He slaps the roof and then swings himself inside.

There’s always something weird about getting into a stranger’s car. Vanitas waits a second and then climbs into the passenger’s side. Both chairs are as far back as they can go and Axel is already fiddling with the radio. Vanitas just sits, grabbing his seatbelt since that’s always the right thing to do in a car.

Fuzzy talk radio comes through and Axel makes a face and skips the station. Something like music sounds and he leans back. “Signal is crap right here, so who knows what this is. It’ll probably deafen us the second it gets stronger.”

Vanitas shrugs, not really feeling like critiquing the vast field of musical taste in the world with his boss. Axel doesn’t seem to notice or care, as with most things Vanitas finds himself worried about, and gets them on the road. Conversation doesn’t seem necessary, Axel focused on driving, and Vanitas elects to enjoy it while he can. Buildings blur past in the window as he focuses beyond them at the flashes of the sea and sky.

He should probably be more worried about wherever they’re going, but he’s decently sure he can get out of any weird kidnapping attempt pretty easily. He pulls the orange out and peels a section to eat.

They head out of town, the buildings spreading out and nature growing up. Vanitas watches a couple of fields go by and finally, frowns. “So, where are we going?”

Axel laughs. “I was wondering when you’d finally ask. We’re headed to the fruit farm. I need fresh strawberries by the basket and they’re finally in season. We’re going to pick a couple bushels of them and then make this car smell amazing.”

Berry picking? Vanitas looks down at the orange he’s eating. “I’ve never been.”

“Don’t worry, it’s easy. Just gotta get ahead of the ravenous crowds.”

“The ravenous crowds for strawberries?” Vanitas gives him a look, but Axel just nods somberly.

“Fresh picked berries are a siren call for those chemical hating parents. We’ll be beating them away with our baskets.”

“So, you’re paying me to fight off zombies while we pick berries.” Vanitas glances out the window again and then shrugs. “Eh, I’ve done worse.”

Axel’s laugh is so loud that Vanitas can’t bite back a smile.

The farm itself definitely isn’t trying to sell to anyone. It doesn’t have overly fancy signs or a paved parking lot or even a restroom from what Vanitas can tell. Standing beside Axel as he pays for their baskets, Vanitas shades his eyes and looks over the field.

Short, small strawberry plants extend out for quite a fucking ways and there’s already a handful of people out in the rows. The lot itself is just some square of gravel with a little stand set up to collect money and hand over baskets. If this is a popular place, it’s one for locals and not for tourists.

It looks better than he was imagining.

Vanitas takes one of the big baskets from Axel, a thing made to hold at least a hundred strawberries, and follows him toward the field. Axel has another under his arm. He waves a hand in front of them, practically putting the field on display. “Behold all that is good.”

“Fresh fruit can be bought in stores.”

“Yes, but sunshine is actually good for us, no matter what you think, you little vampire.” Axel shoves at his shoulder. “Come on, you’ll get into it. You’re allowed to take a couple and eat them straight, but don’t be doing handfulls. We still have to pay for the berries we actually end up picking.” Axel steps into one of the rows, but instead of bending down, he heads further down the row, eyeing the plants. Vanitas follows him.

“People always want to go for the front. It’s right there, it’s easy, the berries are tempting. But, if we start further back, then we’re not picking what people left and we won’t be lugging as many berries all the way down and back.” Axel’s steps are long and he seems confident in where he’s going. Vanitas doesn’t hurry after him, but he does keep apace.

“If you’re going to switch rows, you can step over them, just be careful.”

“Right.” He doesn’t need squashed strawberry all over his shoes anyway.

Axel finally stops in a rather deserted part of the field. He sets the basket down and then takes a seat on the ground. “I’m too damn tall for squatting. But here, look.” He reaches into the plant and spreads the leaves. “Berries.”

“Amazing,” Vanitas drawls. He gets elbowed for his trouble.

“The big thing is they’re not going to really ripen once we pick them. Look for ones that have very little green and white on them. I’m looking for bigger ones since we’re using them for the shop and it’s always better to bake the big ones, but anything decent sized is good.” Axel plucks two off and drops them in his basket. “Go nuts.”

Well, shit, this is easy. He’s getting paid for berry picking which means exactly  _ zero _ interaction with people. Finally where he wants to be. Vanitas moves a few plants down and then jumps over the row. Axel can work one side and he’ll take the other. He kneels beside the plants and starts looking for good strawberries.

It’s not too hard. The berries are definitely ripe, a bright brilliant red that looks more like a crayon than something real. He rolls a few between his fingers, looking for bad soft spots, and can feel how the sun has warmed them. Some still in the shade of the plant are cooler and he tosses those directly in the basket. One of the big sun-warmed ones, like some prop from a movie, Vanitas lifts up to his face. 

Holding it under his nose, he breathes in. Strawberry, fresh and warm and real, fills him up and he takes a bite before he can reconsider. It’s perfect, just on the edge of tart. He twists the top off and eats the rest of the berry. It’s a pretty fucking nice morning.

He glances across at Axel and sees him eating one too. Axel grins at him. “Best part of the job.”

For once, it’s easy to smile back. Vanitas goes back to picking. His fingers get a bit sticky from some of the softer ones, but it’s nothing compared to what he ends up covered in at the bakery.

Axel hums some song as he works across the way, somehow finding twice as many berries as Vanitas has. It’s pleasant and Vanitas is thinking of snapping a picture of the field to send to Xemnas. He straightens up, stretching his back out from the hunch needed to see into the bushes. His spine cracks and he sighs in relief, rubbing his neck. “I don’t know how you do this without complaining,” he tells Axel, pulling his phone out.

“Eh, used to it. I was doomed to a bad back from birth.” Axel leans backward on his hands, taking his own break. A nice breeze blows over them and Vanitas turns to get a good shot of the field. Maybe he’ll follow it up with a picture of him eating one of the best berries he finds just to make Xemnas jealous. He grins to himself at the thought of the eye roll this will result in.

It’s not hard to get a good picture of the slightly rolling field, all the plants green with the smallest bright red spots of the berries waiting beneath the leaves. The sky’s all blue now to cap it off, a picture-perfect place if there ever was one. Vanitas squats back down to send it off; he sends it to his mom as well, knowing she’d love to see it.

His phone is already buzzing with a return text, when Axel breaks into his thoughts. “Hey, Vanitas, can I ask you something?”

_ Bad lead-in. _ Vanitas looks up at him, cautious. Axel isn’t looking at him, back to berry hunting, but his face is calm, normal. Nothing suspicious.

“Sure,” he says slowly. “What is it?”

“You and Ven do know each other, don’t you?” Axel glances up at him, eyes sharp, and Vanitas’s mouth twists.

The  _ fuck off _ is right on the tip of his tongue, but he breaks off from glaring back at Axel to look down at the strawberries instead. What does it matter? They probably only want to know because, apparently, Ventus lives here too.

“Yeah. We went to the same school. Had a couple classes together.” There, all the information needed with no threads to tug on for more. Vanitas grabs another berry and accidentally squashes it between his fingers. He forces himself to exhale.

Axel’s gaze on him feels hot, too focused. He ignores it.

A shadow falls over the plant he’s picking from, but he refuses to look up. Axel starts picking from the plant, fingers quicker than Vanitas’s. 

“Just tell me if it’s a problem. I can schedule you around when he usually comes to hang out.”

Vanitas’s head jerks up. “What?”

Axel shrugs, still picking. “If it’s some kind of thing, there’s no reason to have you guys miserable. I know Ven’s usual patterns, so if you don’t want to see him, I’ll make sure it’s less likely to happen.”

Vanitas stares at him. No one has ever tried to-. He bites his tongue and looks down again, before Axel can make eye contact, make some kind of look. “It’s not...it’s really not that big of a deal for me. We were just kind of...well, we argued a lot in classes.” Sure, argued, let’s call it that.

He moves to the next plant, but finds more words waiting for him. “Ventus would probably rather avoid me so you should talk to him.”

Axel shifts down too, pulling his basket along. “You mind if I ask what you argued about?”

“Stupid shit. It was class discussions that got...out of hand.”  _ Personal, I always made it personal. _ Vanitas tosses a strawberry into his basket before he accidentally squashes that one too.

“Politics kind of class or are you guys just that passionate about literature?”

Vanitas snorts without any humor. “First class we had together was just an English credit, yeah. Next semester, we were in two classes.”  _ And I’d already decided. _ He shakes his head. “Look, I’m kind of an asshole, okay? Just tell him when I’m working and he can avoid me.”

Axel is looking at him again, gaze all strange and Vanitas scowls at him. Axel shakes his head. “Right, sure. I’ll check with Ven and see if that’s necessary.”

The quiet comes back, but it’s not the same. The sun is hotter, beating down on the back of his neck; the berries all seem too green now and he can just feel the resentment that will come. Poison, he’s already started to poison this. He yanks his hands from the berries and squeezes his fingers into his arms. 

_ Too bad he didn’t d-! _

“Look,” he spits out. “Whatever he says about me? It’s true. I get it if you want to fire me.”

There’s the shift of grass underfoot and then Axel’s hand is on his shoulder, gentle enough that he doesn’t even jump. “Vanitas, come on. Whatever beef you two had, as long as you’re doing your job and not cussing him out, I’m not going to fire you.” Axel laughs a little. “Roxas has sworn at customers, okay? And he still works for me.”

“Roxas is like your little brother. I’ve seen how you are with him.” Vanitas doesn’t look at him, staring down at his knees.  _ Roxas, Ven’s brother. Not the older one, not-. _ Vanitas squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Having a fight with somebody? Vanitas, I hate literally all of my old coworkers and would gladly beat Even’s ass. That shit is normal so long as you’re not actually engaging in assault.” Axel squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Until you pull a knife on me or one of the kids, we’re golden.”

Vanitas snorts. “I wouldn’t use a knife. I bake for you.”

Axel huffs at him. “So, check the cookies for poison, got it.” He pats Vanitas’s shoulder. “We’re good, okay?”

“Yeah...okay.” Vanitas makes himself inhale, hold it for a few counts, and then exhale. “Thanks, Axel.”

“Hell, I didn’t do shit. I drug you out here for berry picking and then got nosy.” Axel moves back to his side and his basket, but doesn’t start picking again. “...You must be pretty talented to be able to wind Ven up. I thought all the anger was stuck in Roxas.”

Vanitas shrugs. “That’s me, talented in being an ass.”

Axel laughs. “They give degrees in that now? Maybe I  _ should _ go back to school.”

“You can only minor in it.” Vanitas’s hands are shaking a little, but he makes himself go back to work. He’s got work to do; he doesn’t have time to sit and dwell.

“Damn.” Axel turns to eye the berries over his shoulder. “I’m gonna swing over. You good?”

It’s more than a question of the picking, of his comfort with continuing at a slightly greater distance.

Vanitas pushes the leaves of the plant apart and finds a perfect strawberry, big, bright, and ripe. He picks it and lifts it up to his face, breathing in the scent of summertime. “Yeah, I’m good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had the idea of a chapter focused on fruit picking since before I started writing this fic. I was VERY excited to actually get here and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! (and Vanitas's cats)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! It's been quite a crazy irl month for me, but damn it feels good to get back to this fic. It really is so nice to write. I hope you enjoy this update!

The Sea-Salt Shack is buzzing with people; all ages of kids press up to the glass and point down into the tubs of ice cream for their favorites. One little girl takes a sample spoon of lemon that her parents couldn’t dissuade her from and she eats it like it’s the sweetest chocolate.

Naminé leans over their usual corner table and gestures toward the girl. “That’s you.”

Roxas takes another bite of his ice cream and lets the spoon hang from his mouth as he looks around. “What’d she get?”

“Lemon.”

“Then she has good taste. Welcome to the clan, strange child.” Roxas makes sure to keep his voice down even as he mimes a bow.

Naminé laughs and taps her pencil against the table. The owner likes the easy cleanup of the paper tablecloths which means Naminé, as well as any other customer, can draw on them. She’s working on a dancing line of ice cream cones at the moment. She starts to add a lemon slice to one cone as Roxas takes over people watching for a bit. “Is Ven in the clan?”

“Absolutely not. Nami, you’ve seen his favorite types of ice cream.” Roxas shudders a bit. “No man should eat that much sugar. Birthday cake ice cream is an abomination.”

“Sora eats chocolate on chocolate and you still like him.”

Roxas flicks a wayward sprinkle across the table at her. “I don’t live with Sora so I don’t have to worry about his teeth rotting out of his skull.”

“Aww,” she coos. “You worry about your brother.”

That gets her Roxas’s pout and she grins at him. “Or maybe you just want more reasons to run away to Axel’s.”

Roxas snorts. “Oh yeah, like dad doesn’t give me enough. If I have to hear one more time about Ven’s major change, I’m telling him I’m going to clown college.”

The door swings open yet again to let more people out, but this time Xion slips in. Both of them wave to her as she hops in line. Naminé goes back to her parade, adding another cone of swirled ice cream; this one will get a whipped cream hat.

“Maybe mime school, so I can pretend I can’t hear him because I’m in a glass box,” Roxas continues. “That’d probably annoy him twice over.”

“Maybe. What’s Terra doing?”

“Lifeguard thing with Sora again. He’s planning to go back to school in the fall, I think. Seems kinda cagey about it, but Ven’s determined to drag him back.” Roxas drops his leg from the seat beside him, freeing it up for Xion. Naminé hums.

The bell continues to jingle over the door, people going in and out. The sun’s still up for maybe an hour more and then it’ll be prime boardwalk time. Roxas was debating asking the girls to go ride some stuff until they feel like throwing up, but at least Naminé is in for an early day tomorrow. They’ve got to get a good day at the beach in soon. Maybe he can convince Axel to close up for a Sunday afternoon and they can all go. Staff Morale Day on the beach, hell yes he can totally swing that.

The chair scrapes a little as Xion takes a seat, breaking Roxas from his reverie. “What’s that look on your face for?”

Roxas grins at her and starts to swing his foot into her lap. She slaps it back down and sticks her tongue out at him. “I’m planning a day off for us. Let me relax and plan.”

“Plan with your feet on the floor. You don’t always have to be lounging like a disaffected youth.” Xion gives her cone a lick, the bright orange ice cream already painting her tongue. “As Isa would say.”

“Please don’t quote Isa at me. I get enough of him already.”

“He’s not that bad,” Xion argues. “You just like to argue with him because he won’t let you take an entire box of doughnuts home for free.”

Roxas takes a bite of his ice cream rather than admit that it’s true. Xion knows when she’s won and grins. “Thought so. Tell me about this day off. We get plenty of days off. Naminé, your ice cream’s melting.”

“That’s fine.” Naminé starts adding flecks of confetti around her parade. “Share, Roxas.”

“Well, we haven’t all gone to the beach yet. The good one, obviously, with the trail that leads to the waterfall? We should get Axel to close up shop at like one on a Sunday and then we can all go.” Roxas gets more excited as he talks and beams at both of them. “Wouldn’t it be great?”

Xion and Naminé both nod. “We have been working a lot of hours and then everybody’s all over the place.” Xion gives her cone another lick. “When were you thinking?”

Roxas shrugs. “He’ll need time to chew it over so maybe in like two weeks. We can invite a whole bunch of us.”

“Do you think Vanitas will come?” Naminé looks between them. “He’s on staff now and Sora’s brother. Would he come?”

Xion tilts her head slightly. “I don’t know. It probably depends on how we sell it. He’s not going to bite for a party. Look how he reacted to the idea of Kairi’s big one.”

“Small friend beach hangout is way more calm, right?”

“Maybe we leverage Sora. No way anyone exists that can resist his puppy dog eyes.” Roxas nods, spoon tapping against his bowl. “Problem: we can’t invite Ven.”

Xion frowns. “Why not?”

“Didn’t you hear from Olette?” Roxas looks at her in surprise. “Vanitas and Ven totally have a hate-ship going on.”

“A hate-ship?” Naminé mumbles in confusion.

Xion’s eyebrows are way up. “Ven can hate people? I mean, dislike sure, but hate?”

Roxas shrugs. “I haven’t asked Ven about it, but Terra said he came down to the beach seeming out of sorts the same day Olette said they ran into each other at work.  _ Something _ must have happened.”

“I wonder what it is…” Xion looks away from their table, not really focusing on anything in particular. “No way Vanitas will tell us. Ven’s never mentioned him before, right?”

“Not that I can remember. And it’s bugging me. How could I not know?” Roxas makes a face. “We’re brothers, actual blood brothers! I should know about some hate-thing first.”

“I’m confused,” Naminé interrupts. “Is this like a hate relationship where they can’t stand each other and still end up dating? The movies have those.”

Xion reaches across the table and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Naminé, poor sweet Naminé, I need to tell you about-.”

“Xion, shut uuuuup.” Roxas elbows her. “It’s not that kind of thing, okay? Maybe they just got into some dumb argument in school, I don’t know. We could invite both of them and whoever shows up, shows up. They don’t have to talk to each other.”

“True.” Xion leans back again. “Maybe we just try to get Vanitas here after work one day first. Then we invite him to the beach. You get to convince Axel.”

Roxas waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.”

* * *

It’s never hard to guess when Sora gets home. The screen door slams and shoes thump into the base of the wall along with whatever bag Sora drug out with him hitting the floor. The capping shout of “Home!” just cinches it.

Vanitas doesn’t bother to lift himself from the couch where he’s been pinned by all three cats. “Welcome home,” he calls to be polite and then goes back to his phone. Fricking matching games and their fucking addictive programming.

Sora swings over the back of the couch, balancing on one arm as he rubs at Blob’s ears. “Hey, Blob, Trucker. Scrapper, you’re alive!”

Scrapper hisses at him and Vanitas snorts. “You won’t be for very long if you try to touch him.”

“Some day, you’ll know my love, Scrap.” Sora leans back. “Anything for dinner?”

“Mom’s out tonight. I can cook or we can order in.”

“What do you feel like cooking?”

“Meh.” Vanitas flicks another set of flowers into line and watches the explosions.

Sora leans over again and taps him in the middle of his forehead. “So, we’re ordering pizza.”

“We’re ordering pizza.” Vanitas doesn’t react to the poking.

“Hey! We should do a movie night too!” Sora brushes some sand off his arms and then bounds over to the shelf. “Sound fun?”

Vanitas looks up as he finally runs out of turns and his phone screen goes dark. “Depends on the movie, but...fuck, sure why not? Without ten of your friends, please.”

Sora presses a hand to his chest. “Duh, brothers movie night. I wasn’t going to start texting everybody I know. You wound me, Vanitas.”

He rolls his eyes and rubs Scrapper’s ears. As the grumpiest cat, he’s on Vanitas’s shoulder and chest and pretending he doesn’t like it. Blob, seeing Sora’s movements, hops off his legs to investigate. Vanitas will have to remove Trucker with both hands before the cat will admit defeat. He doesn’t bother just yet. “What’s your preferred pizza place?”

Sora gives him the number and Vanitas orders a large Hawaiian and a huge order of breadsticks for the two of them. Annoyed by the increased movement and noise, Scrapper takes off for the safety of the empty second floor. Vanitas picks up Trucker and carries him into the kitchen with him.

The cat gets set on the floor where he flops onto his side as if dying. Vanitas snorts at him, nudges him with a foot, and then moves to wash his hands. Sora comes to join him about ten minutes later with a stack of movies in his hands.

“Whatcha making?” Sora sets the movies on the table and then hangs over Vanitas’s shoulder.

Vanitas, as a kind and nice older brother, doesn’t elbow him in the gut. He’s giving everything in the sauce pan he pulled out a good stir, watching for any uneven bubbles. “Caramel. Movies are shit without popcorn, right?”

“You’re making caramel.” Sora sighs and slumps against him. “Vanitas, you are  _ so _ lucky that I got my braces off two years ago or I’d be crying right now.”

He had no damn clue Sora ever even had braces, so lucky him for not being an ass. He shrugs his brother off and turns the heat up slightly to bring it all to a boil. “Caramel popcorn is arguably the best type of popcorn.”

“No way. Have you had white cheddar popcorn? That’s the godly stuff.” Sora grins at him and starts unstacking the movies. “I once totally grossed out Riku by putting spray cheese all over our popcorn.”

“Animal. Did he cry?” Vanitas is smirking at the thought.

Sora shakes his head. “He made another bag that he refused to let me touch until it was empty. Jerk.” He waves a hand over the movies. “I want at least two and one will be animated.”

“Ugh.” Vanitas sticks his tongue out. “You’re such a baby.”

“It’s called having fun,” Sora sings and then looks toward the door. “Think I heard a bike. Bet that’s the pizza. Pick something good!” He jogs off to the front door, slamming it open and shut.

Vanitas eyes the movies laid out and is tempted to be a total ass and go for horror. He knows Sora can’t stand it, but maybe if it was cheesy, they’d be too busy laughing to notice. Or maybe not. What does he really know about Sora? Not fucking much. He shakes his head at himself, checks the caramel, and then looks at the movies again. He’s too old for kid movies; they all look so...juvenile.

God, he doesn’t even care. He turns away from them and can hear Sora shouting goodbye out the door. The caramel’s at a good boil and he starts to add the last couple ingredients. Sora comes in, arms full of pizza and breadsticks and puts them on the table. “This smells amazing. What if we put the caramel on the pizza?”

“You die for being an abomination god can no longer tolerate.” Vanitas kicks at him as Sora moves closer, but Sora just hops over his foot.

“What movie did you pick?”

“Doesn’t matter to me. You can pick both.”

Sora hums and looks at him. “...Okay, sounds like a plan. But now you can’t complain when I sing along.”

Vanitas casts his eyes skyward in a mockery of prayer. “Save me.”

“Hey! Maybe your cats will sing too!”

“Then God really will kill us both.” But Vanitas is smiling again anyway. It’s always this way with Sora. He can’t ever really get mad or frustrated and Sora always seems to know when to back off. Vanitas knows he’s not that easy to read; his brother’s probably just psychic. “Give me like two more minutes to get this done and then we can start. Get plates!”

Sora stops in the middle of opening the pizza box and sticks his tongue out. He gets them both plates and then grabs the movies to go get set up.

Vanitas joins him a few minutes later, popcorn carefully drizzled in caramel and put in the oven to bake. Sora grins at him from one end of the couch and Vanitas takes the other side. The movie is already queued up and Vanitas tries not to make a face. “Really?” he asks flatly. “How many times have you seen Beauty and the Beast?”

“I always need to see it one more time,” Sora answers cheekily and hits play.

They’ve both seen it before, even in his house Vanitas saw kids’ movies, so it’s not too long before Vanitas is messing with his phone again. Sora is humming along beside him and doesn’t seem bothered by any distraction. Flicking through a feed of photos, Vanitas tries not to roll his eyes. A couple weeks out here in what could easily be called a small town and he already thinks that everything he left behind looks even faker.

He scrolls quickly past posts about clothes and the city and  _ look how polished and beautiful our university is! _ Ugh, he liked school until everything went to shit. Vanitas makes a face at his phone, but it quickly switches to a grin as he hits a picture he can actually appreciate. Someone’s brown hand is wrapped around a coffee cup, turned to show off the quickly scribbled name: Chad. Someone, Vanitas is sure it’s the same someone holding the cup, has added red pen hearts around it. The caption reads,  _ ‘The things I do out of desperate love. Someday I’ll find a man as great and much less straight than him!’ _

Vanitas taps the little heart, it already has hundreds, and makes sure he’s on his personal account before opening the comments.  _ ‘Usually, you drop the hearts when someone tells you they’re straight, you sad gay mess.’ _

“Who you talking to?” Sora has leaned in, but his eyes are still on the tv. They flick to Vanitas for a moment. “You’re smiling.”

He scowls automatically. “Nosy. Just telling one of my brothers he’s a mess.”

Sora’s eyebrows go up. “Yeah? Which one?” Sora, like their mom, is one of the few people in town privy to Vanitas’s family, but Sora doesn’t have the details.

“The older twin.”

“By like two minutes, right?”

“Oh, yeah, but he lords those two minutes like it makes him three years older.” Vanitas rolls his eyes and taps to his camera roll. He flicks through several pictures of the stuff he’s made for Axel and then stops on one from last winter break. It’s no professional picture, but it’s not a bad one: three of them are all leaning together with Vanitas in the middle. On one side, Xemnas has been wrestled into a santa hat; on the other side, Ansem is wearing both antlers and a bright red nose. Vanitas elected to take the tree sunglasses and is throwing up a peace sign.

He shows Sora, pointing at Ansem. “He’s had a crush on this guy at work for like a year despite knowing that he’s straight. He’s a mess.”

Sora laughs at the three of them. “You guys all have the brightest eyes.” He points between the strangely bright gold-brown of the twins and Vanitas’s own strangely red-cast brown.

“It’s the in-breeding,” Vanitas says dryly and Sora chokes on his popcorn. Patting him on the back one-handed, Vanitas takes his phone back. Sora manages to suck air instead of popcorn into his lungs and slumps against Vanitas’s side. 

“Least that won’t be a problem if your brother’s gay.”

“Shit, you’re completely right. The bloodline is saved.” Vanitas rolls his eyes and Sora smacks him lightly in the stomach. “ _ I’m _ gay, Sora.”

Sora sticks his tongue out. “Yeah, but come on. We’re way too young for kids. They look like they’re forty.”

“Thirties actually, but Ansem will swear up and down that’s he’s only twenty-eight.” Vanitas musses Sora’s hair. “You’re gonna miss their dance.” He points at the tv.

“You’re asking me to sing.”

“God,  _ no _ , I’m just distracting you.”

Sora laughs. “So subtle!” He sits up again and puts the popcorn back between them. He’s already humming along, and still manages to tap his foot against Vanitas’s leg to the beat.

Vanitas shakes his head and slumps back into the couch. He gives the picture another glance and then pockets his phone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xion texts Namine later: ♠️
> 
> Chad is actually my most favorite thing me and Sam have come up with in the car, talking about this stuff. He's a delight and is also Sir Will Not Be Appearing in this fic. RIP Chad, you disappeared as you lived.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KH has a million characters, yet here I am inserting OCs because I like their fit better. Ah well. Enjoy some Ienzo content!
> 
> Erik belongs to maniacalchimera, my lovely significant other.

The buzz of a tattoo gun greets Ienzo as he swings the door open and he looks around to see who’s working. He can’t spot anyone at the front chairs, so they must be behind the curtain and working on something more personal. Damn, he was hoping to see something new.

He lets the door close behind him, glad that this place doesn’t bother with an adorable chiming bell of some kind. It’s unlikely they’d hear it when they’re working anyway. Still, despite the noise, someone’s already walking toward the counter from the back. Ienzo smiles at the person approaching and leans on the counter like it’s the one in his parents’ shop. “Good morning, Dr. Acamar.” A face is made at him and his smile grows into a grin. “I haven’t seen you since I got home from school. I’m still stuck in those university manners.”

The man flips a hand at him. “Well, cut it out. I only insist on the doctor when people want to be rude.”

“So, you should always insist on it.”

“Maybe so, but you still have permission to call me Erik.” Erik doesn’t really lean on counters, but he does place a hand on it for balance.

Ienzo has known Erik since he was about fourteen when he and his husband moved to town to set up shop. He was instantly interested after he heard Even and Erik arguing science for several hours over what was supposed to be a regular length dinner. Erik might have left teaching behind, but he’s still a better instructor than half his professors. Ienzo’s never asked why he left something as prestigious as teaching graduate students at the university in Radiant Garden for running a tattoo shop, but he’s sure it has something to do with either the scar that runs down half of Erik’s face and what can be seen of his neck, or something as soft as love.

He looks past Erik toward the sound of the tattoo gun again. “Is Kara working?”

“Yes, early morning appointment. It’s still going to be another session after this. It’s a big back piece.” Erik yawns as if the act of creating art on people is something mundane. Ienzo has yet to decide if he’d like a tattoo, but he knows he’ll come here over any place else if he does. He wiggles the stud in one of his ears as he thinks about it for probably the millionth time. Erik’s the one who pierced his ears two years ago.

“So, how was the semester? Who did you have?” Erik’s good eye always gets brighter at the prospect of gossip about his old coworkers and Ienzo is happy to vent about them. They get caught up in a discussion about Professor Adlebern’s inability to admit that new practices might work better and Ienzo’s many attempts to keep from jabbing the man with a pipette in labs. Erik snorts and admits to stuffing his office mailbox full of printed out articles just to annoy him.

The sound of the tattoo in progress stops and a few minutes later, Erik’s husband appears stretching out his shoulders. He comes to the front and kisses Erik’s cheek first; they’re always like this and Ienzo makes a face at them. “You’re worse than my parents.”

The second man turns, already grinning. “No way in hell. Those three are a cornerstone of this fucking town with their constant married shenanigans. We heard about them before any other goddamn town gossip.” Kara is exactly what Ienzo expects from a tattoo artist: he’s got a full sleeve on each arm that mixes flowers, fire, and chain imagery into a bright eye-popping design that people can’t help but notice. His face is round and friendly, and despite the swears that fall out of his mouth near-constantly, he’s also one of the nicest people in town. Ienzo’s heard from Kara’s own mouth that he used to be a “totally angry fuckwit,” but he “grew out of it.” This was, of course, accompanied by a look at Erik.

Ienzo isn’t interested in a relationship, but he thinks that might half be because he already gets enough just being _near_ all these committed marriages that leave him slipping in the sap. He’s in no rush to join them in being foolishly in love.

Kara reaches over and messes up his hair, just because he can, and then goes back to rolling and stretching his shoulders and neck out. Erik gives him room and yawns again. “Really, Ienzo, avoid Adlebern if at all possible. They must have hired another biologist with twice as many brain cells by now.”

“As embarrassing as it would be, I almost wish Even would go back to work for a semester. Then, at least, I’d know I was learning something.” Ienzo sighs. “I picked out my fall courses already and am keeping my fingers crossed they’ll all actually feel like upper level courses. I’m already dreading the one lab; it was only available at eight am.”

They both chuckle and he flips them off. Everyone in town knows he’s not a morning person.

There’s a gust of warm air as the door swings open and Kara’s already waving. “Welcome to Renegades’.”

“Thanks!” The voice is strangely familiar and Ienzo looks over his shoulder.

The person standing in the doorway has a big smile on and the sun is catching on their bright blond hair, making them look practically haloed. It takes Ienzo a minute to place them and then rolls his eyes. He turns back to Erik before Demyx tries to flirt with him again. Too bad there aren’t any flowers here.

Demyx doesn’t even take notice of him, walking up and whistling. “Now those are tattoos. Please tell me someone here did them?”

Kara chuckles. “They’re a mix, but Erik designed the overall look.” He points a thumb at his husband. “He’s got a real _eye_ for the work.” Erik slaps his shoulder.

“I wish I had the money for that, damn. I was actually coming to ask about your piercing prices.” Demyx touches his eyebrow. “I wanted to get one done, but budgeting, you know?”

“Oh do we.” Erik pulls the laminated sheet around and Ienzo moves away from the counter rather than get in the way of actual business.

He moves back toward the waiting chairs, eyeing the designs on the wall. Kara favors more natural work, curving lines and bright colors. Erik designs everything, but his best work, in Ienzo’s opinion, is the monochromatic clockwork pieces he has on display. He never gets tired of looking and it seems like they switch out the frames every time he comes home from school. A new clockwork tower is displayed, its face half-broken to show all the gears and parts inside. It’s beautiful and he tracks the gears, seeing how each would turn the next.

“-yment plan?”

“Usually not for the piercings. There’s no incentive to come back for those.”

“Right, right. Guess I’ll save a bit longer and then come back.” Demyx is rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as Ienzo glances over.

None of this is cheap, that’s why it’s quality, but _surely_ a piercing isn’t that much if he wants one bad enough to come in. Ienzo crosses his arms over his chest and gives him another look. He’s got an instrument case slung on his back and a dark leather-looking jacket on, but both look travel-worn and well used. They’re either old or secondhand. Demyx is either playing up the musician-schtick or he’s living paycheck to paycheck. Well, that’s his decision.

Ienzo turns away and considers going to get lunch. Business will pick up here soon, so he’ll have to invite them for dinner some night to really catch up. Or Kara will invite him so he doesn’t have to listen to Erik and Even argue. The door opens again before he can say anything and Demyx is gone. Well, good. Hopefully that can continue.

He approaches the counter and tells the two of them he’ll see them another time. They wave, Kara heading back to work, and Ienzo pushes the door open. He gets a step outside and bangs right into someone. Grabbing his nose, he bites back a swear. Someone touches his shoulder and he jerks back. 

“Shit, sorry!” Demyx is right there, both hands held up. “It seemed like you were hanging out and I was trying to figure out directions and shit, I’m sorry. Please tell me you didn’t break your nose?”

Ienzo rubs at it and lowers the hand. “It’s bruised at most. Don’t stand in front of doors.”

Demyx sighs and slumps slightly. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” He doesn’t seem bothered by Ienzo’s cold look, but maybe he’s just that damn oblivious. Demyx glances away and then back at him. “Seriously, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Mistakes happen.” Ienzo looks past him. “So, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Wait, just a sec!” Demyx holds his hands out again. Ienzo sighs, but looks back at him. It’s unfair that Demyx is yet another person taller than he is. He’s a normal height! Where do all these giants come from?

Demyx smiles at him, not as bright as the one in the shop, a bit awkward. “I just...wanted to say I was sorry about the flower. It was a jerk move to pull while you were working, even if you um...nevermind.” His cheeks are going pink.

Ienzo arches an eyebrow, but it’s far more than he ever expected from a flirt. “Thank you. I’m glad you recognize the mistake.”

That gets him an eye roll. “Gee, thanks. I’m not an asshole, you know.”

“You’re some flirt musician. I think that tells me enough.”

Demyx scoffs, “Right, okay, and you’re just some stuffed up nerd who never learned how to socialize. Your dad has better conversational skills than you.” There’s a confidence in the way he says it and Ienzo flushes angrily.

“How would you know?”

“Met him on the boardwalk the other night.” Demyx shrugs the shoulder not under the strap of the case. “We talked about his shop, you know, like normal people.”

“I know for a fact he’s incapable of talking like a normal person.” Ienzo steps to the side. “But if you want to talk to him, go ahead.”

Demyx shakes his head. “Look, all I’m saying is if you want people to be polite, you should try it yourself.” He turns away and lifts a hand in what’s almost a wave. It’s dismissive.

Ienzo hates it. “I’m plenty capable of being polite!” he shouts after him, but Demyx just keeps walking the casual sort of gait that always gets on his nerves. “Ass.”

Even worse, that’s exactly the direction he needs to go. He runs a hand down his face and then starts walking, forcing himself to go slower so he doesn’t get any closer to Demyx than he has to. Except Demyx does a sort of ambling walk that feels like he keeps slowing down. Ienzo feels like he’s barely walking and he wants lunch. With a huff, he walks faster, intending on passing Demyx.

He almost gets there and then they hit an intersection as the light turns red. Ienzo jerks to a stop as the cars start moving and Demyx stops beside him. The universe thinks it is so very funny and clearly, Demyx thinks so too. When Ienzo glances at him, he’s grinning and not looking at Ienzo. His face is going red, he just knows it, and Ienzo considers circling around an entire block. But no, dammit, this is his hometown and he is not going to go out of his way for one annoyance.

“So, is it the musician thing or do you hold grudges until the world ends?” Demyx’s voice is almost too cheerful as he asks.

Ienzo glares slightly up at him. “You are obnoxious,” he says slowly. “It’s neither.”

Demyx hums. “Grudge then. Forgive a guy for trying. It was almost a movie moment, cute person in a flower shop, I’m new in town…”

“The movies are toxic. You should never strive for them.” Ienzo rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on,” Demyx argues. “There are good moments in romance movies...sometimes.”

Ienzo crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow. “Name one.”

Demyx snaps his fingers. “Pongo and Perdita pulling their owners together is a total meet-cute.”

Ienzo’s eyebrow is practically in his hair. “The dogs, tangling their owners together, is a meet-cute.”

“Absolutely.”

“Including the part where they fall in the lake.”

Demyx sighs. “Hard to forget the guy whose dog knocked you in the pond.”

“You know, Perdita isn’t actually to blame for that. She isn’t even on a leash.” Ienzo shakes his head. “That’s just a meeting, not the relationship.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that if I had done that, you’d be less mad at me.” Demyx arches his eyebrow now.

Ienzo’s eyes narrow. “...No, I’d probably still be annoyed because what kind of person doesn’t train their dog properly?”

Demyx sighs. “Impossible to please. Did your dad give up on teaching you manners?”

“Did yours?” Ienzo snaps back.

He gets a shrug in answer. “My parents weren’t the teaching type. I learned elsewhere.” Demyx turns away and starts across the street. Ienzo didn’t even see the light change. He quickens his step to get across before it changes again. They hit the other sidewalk at the same time and Demyx glances at him. “You been here your whole life?”

“Since I was about six actually. Well, here and the university. I tended to commute with my parents.” They’re getting close to the shops and Ienzo only considers running for it for about a second. He can be _polite_ and he’ll prove it. 

“Huh. No wonder you’re so smart. You absorbed all that upper class learning as a toddler.” Demyx grins.

Ienzo rolls his eyes. “Yes, all my hard work is just to hide that I was actually a sponge as a young child and already understood university level ideas. Do you take anything seriously?”

Demyx considers this, making Ienzo huff at him. Demyx grins at that and adjusts the strap of his case. “Yes, I take music deathly serious.”

“Of course you do.” Ienzo shakes his head. “Well, at least there’s _that._ I can’t stand jokesters.” He slows his steps as they reach the next corner, gaze drifting to the store just ahead. He brushes his bangs back from his face, unbothered when they inevitably swing right back to his nose. Demyx stops too, turning to look at him again. Ienzo blinks and looks up at him. “Yes?”

A grin quirks up Demyx’s lips. “Nothing. Guess you can be polite when you try. I’ll be sure to let your dad know.”

Ienzo sputters, “Like you’ll see him before I do!”

“Who knows?” Demyx says cheekily. “Stranger things can happen.” He adjusts his strap again and then shoves his hands in his pockets. “One more question, if you’ve got a minute.”

“Well,” Ienzo drawls, “if it’s only a minute.” He has shown to be better than that first impression. Ienzo can tolerate one question.

Demyx grins again. “How long have you known the owners of the tattoo place? Are they actually that nice?”

He really wasn’t expecting that. Ienzo blinks and then shrugs. “I met them when they moved to town. They’re nice even if they don’t always sound like it. Kara tends to forget what an inside voice is. But, they’re known through town for being good people; you can’t ask for more in a small town like this.”

Demyx hums and looks back down the street. “Wonder if they’d let me work to cover some of the cost…” It’s a mutter that Ienzo barely hears and then Demyx shakes his head. “Thanks! Good to know since I’m clearly not the best at reading people.” His grin is unapologetic and Ienzo rolls his eyes.

“Good luck,” is all he says to Demyx and then moves away. 

“I’ll tell your dad hello!” Demyx calls after him and his laugh lingers in Ienzo’s mind all the way to lunch. Staring vaguely at the wall as he eats, Ienzo wonders just when Demyx got into town anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo being a snarky brat is just my favorite. We return to Ventus next time! >:3c


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to @vcidgear on twitter for talking about being diabetic with me! Ven is safe from my clumsily researched portrayal of such. Also, they're great in general!

If there’s a more perfect way to spend an afternoon than lounging on the beach in the shade of an umbrella, taking pictures of the birds, Ven would still argue for the beach because it’s his home. He adjusts his focus, glancing over the top of the camera, and then waits for the most recent wave to roll back out. The sandpipers are waiting for the same thing and dart forward to poke their beaks into the wet sand, searching for food.

Ven presses lightly on the button as he adjusts his shot of one of the birds and then clicks it down as the bird straightens up, bits of sand falling from its beak. He clicks another as the bird ducks back down. The next wave washes up over the sand, but the birds have already darted further up the beach. Ven straightens up, rolling his shoulders back, and carefully sets the camera on its bag. If he gets any sand in it, he will cry. He saved up  _ forever _ to get it at all.

He pulls his sunglasses down over his eyes and looks the other direction down the beach, where most of the crowd is. Terra promised crab fries almost twenty minutes ago and he’s starting to wonder if his brother was gotten by the gulls on his way back. Ven could mount a rescue, but it’s likely that it’s already too late. He puts his hands together. “May your soul rest in peace.”

A fry hits his hands and then lands in the sand. Terra is there, a bucket in one hand and the other hand on his hip. “I work hard every day to buy fries and this is what I come back to, prayers for my soul.”

“I’m making sure you’re looked after in the after-life!” Ven protests and scoops up his camera to pack it away properly. “How did you get back in the five seconds I had my eyes closed?”

Terra sets the bucket down under the umbrella, keeping a watch for any of the gulls. “I circled around behind you while you had the camera up. I didn’t want to get in your shots.” He stretches his legs out in front of him with a sigh. “My day off and I’m out here again.”

Ven zips his bag closed and then grabs a fry, still very hot from the fryer. “You could have said you had other plans, even if they’re just sleeping in till noon. I can come to the beach anytime”

“Except when you’re at school, so we’ve only got like two months really.” Terra lies down, his feet in the sand and sighs. “I can sleep out here easily. Don’t let me hear any frantic moms, okay Ven?”

“I’ll do my best.” Ven grins and continues digging his way through the fries as he watches the birds and the people all moving in and out of the water. It’s a perfect afternoon, no storm in sight, and Terra is already breathing in that half-asleep way. Ven checks to make sure the umbrella shade is covering his brother’s face to spare him any sunburn and then scoots the fry bucket into his lap. No doubt Terra had some on his way back, so all’s fair in snacks and naps.

There’s a ding from beside Terra and Ven turns to look. Oh, someone’s texting him. The ID reads “Work” before it fades and Ven bites his lip. Terra’s definitely napping, so he reaches out and grabs the phone before it can ding again. If it’s really important, Ven will wake him up. If not, well, then he can tell Terra it wasn’t anything important.

A tap of his finger and Terra’s phone lights up again. His brother, trusting to a fault, told him the code, and Ven gets the most recent message open. It’s not work like a boss, but a group chat for all of the lifeguards. Ven arches an eyebrow. Not important, probably, but he reads the message anyway.

**Sora: Hey, Sora left his phone at home so I took it to work with me. Tell him to come get it at Axel’s.**

Well, that’s weird. Ven eyes it and then shrugs. He doesn’t need to wake up Terra to go run down the beach and let Sora know. He opens up a reply. 

**Terra: I’ll let him know!**

They’re definitely going to know that’s not Terra, but whatever. Ven drops the phone beside Terra and pokes his arm. “Hey, Terra, I’ll be right back. Don’t get drug into the sea by merfolk,” Ven whispers. Terra grumbles something back and waves a hand. Good enough!

Ven scoops up his phone and sandals and then starts down the crowded beach right above the wave line. He is about to text Sora to ask exactly where he’s stationed when he realizes how idiotic that would look. Kairi would have it screenshotted and online before he even got back to Terra. He shades his eyes to look up at the first stand and can see two lifeguards inside. One is watching the water as the other digs through a bag at their feet. Hopefully they know where Sora is.

He jogs across the sand, careful not to kick it onto anyone, and stops at the foot of the lifeguard stand. “Hey,” he calls up. “You guys know where Sora is?”

The other lifeguard, a girl rolls her eyes and points at her partner who is throwing things all over the place. She nudges him with a foot. “Sora, blond for you.”

Ven makes a face, but Sora looks up. He gives Ven a quick smile and comes over, a shirt in one hand. “Hey, Ven. Is something the matter? I’m kinda busy.”

Ven can’t help the smirk that spreads across his face. He wiggles his phone in one hand. “Leave something at home?”

“Yeah,” Sora says slowly. “How did you know?”

“Someone texted the lifeguard chat from your phone. I saw it on Terra’s. They said they’re taking it to work with them? They’re at Axel’s?” Ven frowns. Wait, Sora only lives with his mom and she doesn’t work at Axel’s…

Sora sighs gustily and throws the shirt back on top of his bag. “Thank you!” he shouts toward the sky. “I’m going to owe him, I wonder if I bring him a snack if that’ll buy him off.” He shoves all of the things he’s tossed around back into his bag and zips it tight. “Can I run off for like ten minutes?” He turns big blue begging eyes on the other lifeguard who rolls her eyes again.

“You’re useless right now anyway. Go get your phone and bring me back a cookie.” She leans on the rail, eyes back on the water.

Ven scratches the back of his head. “Sora, who  _ has _ your phone?”

Already swinging himself onto the sand, Sora huffs as he lands and then looks up with a smile. “Oh, my brother! He’s been working at Axel’s. You haven’t heard about Vanitas?”

It’s a beautiful warm summer day on the beach and Ven’s fingers go cold. He tightens his grip on his phone, lips pressing together. “I...ran into him once. I didn’t know you guys were related.”

Now, Sora is looking at him suspiciously. “...Did the sun get to you? People keep telling us how much we look alike!” He grabs Ven’s arm and starts dragging him toward the boards. “Come on, you need a drink and I need my phone.”

He really, really does not want to see Vanitas. He was kind of hoping to bury their last meeting and only remember it as some kind of strange revenge dream where he got to see that giant asshole covered in frosting. If he sees Vanitas again, he might have to admit that he’s actually here in Ven’s hometown.

But there’s no stopping Sora, and  _ maybe _ Sora has another brother named Vanitas and Ventus is actually napping on the beach with Terra. Ven sighs, but picks up his feet as they reach the stairs back onto the boardwalk. “When did you get a brother anyway?”

“The day I was born.” Sora sticks his tongue out at him, weaving them around the crowds with the ease of someone who was born on the boards. “Actually, I don’t really remember when we were little, because he left when I was still super small. I met him again like...two years ago? I thought he was the coolest person ever even though he was uh…” Sora shakes his head. “Well, anyway, he’s staying with us for right now while he’s off from school. It’s great!”

That was horrifically unsubtle and Ven can hardly lie worth a crap.  _ It has to be the same Vanitas. _ Ven’s fingers still feel cold and he wonders if there’s any way to get out of this. “Great,” he echoes. “Super cool.” He can see the bright yellow of Axel’s bakery just ahead.

Sora squints at him. “Are you okay? You look pale and you were just out on the beach. Heat stroke is super serious, Ven.”

“It’s not heat stroke. I’m just…” Any excuse is going to kick up Sora’s lifeguard instincts, so Ven sighs. “I just need that drink like you said.” He smiles, not nearly as wide as his usual, but after another moment of study, Sora accepts it.

“Maybe a snack too if your blood sugar is low.” Sora tows him forward again and this time Ven’s groan is more theatrical. Sora grins at him. “You can have stuff!”

Ven slumps as they approach the door. “Not nearly enough stuff. Axel is punishment from god for every time I’ve cheated a little.”

Sora snorts at him and swings the door open. The bell is chiming, but it doesn’t cover the talk from inside. Surprisingly, the bakery is empty except for Xion who is leaning against the counter from the employee side as she shouts through the kitchen door that’s propped open. “It’s a basic question!”

“Hey Xion! What’s a basic question?” Sora keeps a hold of Ven’s arm as he walks up to the counter and Ven rolls his eyes.

Xion turns and smiles at them. “Hey! Sora, perfect timing. What’s Vanitas’s favorite color?”

Sora hums. “Probably red or black or maybe yellow? Probably black. His cats are black.”

She turns back to the door to the kitchen. “I want to know about your cats!”

“They have four legs and a tail,” someone shouts back. The voice is at a much more acceptable inside level as the owner comes up to the swinging door, rubbing down his hands with a towel. “Who’s gossiping about- Sora, finally.”

Vanitas is definitely the same Vanitas that Ventus knows from school. Ven crosses his arms over his chest and scowls at him. The frosting was a distraction before, but there’s no denying that it’s him. Ven remembers that day Vanitas came to class with his stupidly attractive face and then how quickly disgust had risen at the bile that spilled out of his mouth. Apparently, he gets away with sunglasses at work too; there’s a pair sitting on top of his hair. Vanitas glances at him and then quickly away, expression unreadable except for the way his lips press together and thin.

Sora doesn’t notice any of it, leaning over the counter and making grabby hands. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I have to get back to work, but I was freaking out that it ended up in the ocean or something!”

Vanitas drops a hand on Sora’s head and shoves him back from the counter. “She just cleaned that, keep off. I’ll go get it from the office.” Without a second glance at Ven, he disappears into the back again. Ven relaxes slightly.

It’s a mistake. Both Sora and Xion look at him and Ven tenses again. Xion is quicker to get the words out. “What the heck happened between you two?!”

“Nothing,” Ven says quickly. Sora and Xion look at each other and then back at him. “It’s not important!”

“You looked ready to punch him if he said  _ anything _ to you. That’s something, Ven.” Xion leans on her hand, squishing her cheek up. “Come on, you can tell us!” Sora nods quickly.

Ven sighs. “...We go to the same university. I’ve had a couple classes with him. We didn’t get along.” Sora clearly likes his brother and Ven doesn’t like remembering the words Vanitas said on that awful day. He doesn’t need to go into detail.  _ Ha, like that’s a big loss! _ He frowns.

“Sora, here.” Vanitas’s voice is flat, nigh emotionless and it’s really goddamn weird. Ventus looks up at him despite himself. Even Vanitas’s expression is mostly blank as he sets the phone on the counter. It’s  _ weird. _ Where’s his usual arrogant sneer? Ven shifts in place as Sora thanks his brother again, hooking one arm around his shoulders despite the counter between them. “Yeah, yeah, don’t forget it next time.” Vanitas pushes him off again.

Xion grabs Vanitas’s arm before he can go anywhere. “Wait, wait, before you hide from Ven, tell me the truth.”

Vanitas rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue with her. “What.”

“Your favorite color! The most basic of reveals, come on!” Xion shakes him a little and Ven stares in disbelief at the slightly fond expression that crosses Vanitas’s face.  _ Who is this? _

Vanitas pulls his arm free with a shake of his own. “It’s green, okay? I like growing things.”

“But you killed mom’s herb sprouts?” Sora tips his head. Vanitas rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

“No, Scrapper killed the sprouts because he  _ ate _ them. I had nothing to do with it.”

“He’s your cat.”

“But I didn’t kill them. I have grown stuff before.”

Sora grins at him. “Like bean sprouts in school?”

Vanitas sighs loudly, flicks Sora in the forehead, and then goes back into the kitchen.

Ven shakes his head. “Maybe it’s a completely different Vanitas...like a clone.”

Xion and Sora both laugh. “Maybe,” Sora says. “We already look a lot alike, so maybe there’s a third one of us out there! The bad triplet.”

“Ven’s actually the bad twin, he just hides it really well. Roxas is the softy.”

“We’re not even twins. I’m older than him.” Ven sticks his tongue out at her, but without the oppressive wait for Vanitas to ruin the mood, he relaxes. He takes a seat at the bar. “Sora wants me to get a drink, so my favorite please.”

Sora holds his wallet up. “I’m paying! Ven let me know where my phone is and I also need one of your sugar cookies.”

Xion nods. “Let me get a fresh one. It’s for Dove, right?”

“Yeah, she’s alone out there so I better get back.” Sora slaps a few bills on the counter, exact change if Ven had to guess, and then shoves both wallet and phone away. “Make it quick, please?”

She gives him a salute and then goes through the door. “Vanitas, did those sugar cookies come out yet?” The reply is too quiet to hear. 

Ven sighs and pulls his phone out. Terra’s probably still asleep on the beach, but Ven shoots him a quick text to let him know that he’s still alive and will be back soon. Sora bounces on the balls of his feet, clearly anxious to get back. It’s hard not to grin at him; Sora’s the perfect case study of objects in motion versus objects at rest. Noticing the look, Sora sticks his tongue out. “Don’t come back to the beach until you’ve had a drink. Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.” Ven waves a hand in a very messy salute. “You won’t have to scrape me off the sand, alright?”

“Good.” Sora’s eyes dart to the door and then back to Ven, expression falling into something serious. “Whatever he did...he’s trying to be better.”

Poleaxed, Ventus just stares at him. He’s saved from having to respond by Xion coming back out, a couple cookies in a to-go bag. Sora takes them with his usual smile and then he darts out the door. Ven scratches the back of his head.  _ Better? _

“You really are sun-dazed.” With a clunk Xion sets a bottle of tea in front of him. “You need a pick-me-up? The cookies aren’t coated in frosting like Axel does them.”

Shaking his head, Ven opens the bottle and takes a sip. “No, I was just…” He bites his lower lip. The door to the kitchen has swung shut and he can hear what sounds like the radio. He leans closer to Xion. “What do you really think of Vanitas?”

Both of Xion’s eyebrows bounce up, but she leans on the counter so they won’t be overheard. “Well...he’s pretty stand-offish. When he started here, he hardly talked to any of us. Still doesn’t really, but he doesn’t feel so…” She draws the word out and swirls a finger in the air. “Wound tight? I’d like to know him better with the way Sora talks about him. And his baked stuff is  _ so _ good.”

“He hasn’t been rude or mean to any of you guys?” Ventus can’t believe it. There’s no way this isn’t a case of body snatching. “He’s an asshole.”

“What did he do to you?” Xion leans on her hands. “You’re the friendliest person in town after Sora.”

Ven scowls and takes another drink before he can spit out something damning out of anger. It doesn’t stop his temper, but it does make him consider his words for another moment. “He didn’t do anything physical to me. We were in a couple classes together.”

“You already told us that,” Xion interrupts.

He shoots her a look. “We were already competitive in classes because he liked to brag about basically everything. The professor never told him to calm down when we did discussions and he called other people idiots. I don’t know why since he seemed like a good professor.” Ven shakes his head. “So I wouldn’t like him anyway, but then there was this one day…” His fingers are cold again, not from anger this time. “You remember that health scare Terra had?”

Xion nods slowly. “He passed out on campus, right? And they thought he might have had a heart attack or something?”

Ven nods and wraps both hands around the bottle in front of him. “I went to class right after getting the news. I didn’t know anything better to do with myself and they wouldn’t let me in to see him while they were running tests anyway. I might have just talked to the professor and gotten excused? But...instead I ran into Vanitas.”

“He saw that I had been crying and just started in on me. Asked dumb questions like if I was crying over a breakup or a bad grade. Maybe I would have ignored him if it was any other day, but I snapped at him. Told him my older brother was in the hospital after collapsing and that he could be dying.” Ven’s grip on the bottle goes tight, the tips of his fingers all white.

The anger makes his voice snap. “He  _ scoffed _ at me and told me that anybody like Terra would have to beat his head against a wall before making a dent in it. I was so mad at him. It was a shitty day and he was just making it worse. I started shouting back at him that he doesn’t know everything and that if he insulted Terra again, I’d kick his ass. He got really mad right back, but he pretended he thought it was funny. Laughed at me and said that if Terra died...it was no real loss. What was Terra worth anyway?”

Xion’s quiet gasp breaks the rage building in his throat. Ven leans back and exhales slowly, imagining it leaving him in a red cloud. “So, yeah, I don’t get this person I keep hearing about. It doesn’t seem like the same person at all.”

She shakes her head and looks at the door to the kitchen. “He’s been abrupt, but he’s never said a mean word to any of us. Axel likes him a lot, even Isa thinks he’s a good employee and he thinks we’re all a bunch of lazy kids.” Xion frowns. “I wonder if something happened in his family and that smacked him in the face…”

_ Maybe his damn dad died. _ Ventus is nowhere close to cruel enough to say it out loud. He shrugs. “Maybe. If he’s better, great. I’m still not going to act like we’re meeting each other for the first time.” He feels drained and too antsy all at once. The bell on the door jingles as a group comes in. He stands, taking the bottle in one hand, and glad for the excuse. “I better get back before some kids bury Terra in the sand and get it in my poor camera. You have a good day, Xion.” He even manages a smile.

“Yeah, you too, Ven!” Xion straightens up and turns her smile to the customers as they eye the cases full of treats.

Ven moves around them and can’t help but glance back at the door to the kitchen. He can’t see anything through the window, but if he did, he’s not sure he could stop himself from flipping the bird. He sighs and steps back outside.

The beach. He needs more time on the beach with the birds and Terra and absolutely no worries at all about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....yep!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not nearly as far ahead on my buffer for this fic as I usually am, but it's been a while and this one has been waiting for too long! Enjoy an almost immediate follow-up to last chapter!

Ventus absolutely remembers him and absolutely hates him. Leaning against the back wall of the bakery, Vanitas really wishes he could smoke. It’s a shit habit, but he’s in a shit mood. Vices, can’t live without them. He taps his fingers on his leg in a random pattern and chews a bit harder on his gum instead. Why did Ventus have to live  _ here? _

And why did Ventus never say anything about knowing Sora? Is he faceblind?

Vanitas shakes his head. It’s fine, totally fine. Xion shooting him a blank look as he stepped out at the end of his shift? Fine!

He’s fucked. Sure, Axel said it was fine, but if the rest of the staff freezes him out… Wait, he’s just supposed to bake. It doesn’t matter what the counter staff thinks if they leave each other alone. Vanitas taps his fingers faster on his leg, thinking it over. He’d prefer the quiet anyway, so let Xion tell the rest of the teens that he’s an asshole. It’s completely fine.

He thumps his head against the wall and sighs through his nose. Yeah, totally fine. Not like he was starting to enjoy talking with Xion or anything. Goddammit.

_ You have only yourself to blame. _

_ You make your own problems, Vanitas. You stand in your own way. _

_ Get up. Fix your issues and stop whining. _

Vanitas is biting into his lip hard enough to draw blood. He swipes it away and pushes off the wall. True, he made this particular bed, but he can’t dwell, not like this. He forces himself to move, to walk away from the thoughts that he can’t outrun, but can push back.

The beach is waiting across the boardwalk, the sun just starting to set. But people are leaving in droves and soon the patrols will sweep the beach to make sure no one’s in danger of swimming as it gets dark. He doesn’t want to deal with any of that. He climbs the stairs and starts walking, keeping to the rail as much as possible as he walks further and further down the boards, looking for any place that could be considered close to private.

One of the little amusement parks, packed with rides guaranteed to spin you till you’re sick, churns out canned music too loud. The speakers crackle and whine between notes and Vanitas makes a face at it. After dinner, families will descend to take advantage of the good weather, teenagers all eating too much and riding too many times in a row until they’re groaning against the benches.

A small town should be quiet, but in the high season, this one is anything but. Vanitas keeps walking, watching the sun go down, and thinking of nothing. Nothing is still rather noisy. The shops on the boards get smaller, closing for the night except for one small stand smelling of cinnamon and lit up with the image of some kind of dancing pancake.

It makes him exhale. Vanitas stops and pulls his phone out, snapping a picture of the thing. It’s easy to add to a message, but he debates over the empty  _ To: _ field. Xemnas knows, Xemnas is a safe bet, but Xemnas isn’t his only brother. Vanitas sighs and slumps forward, tapping his phone against his forehead. 

_ “What a bastard.” _

_ “Don’t say that in front of Vanitas. He’s not even ten.” _

_ “Like Vanitas doesn’t know that word.” _

_ Vanitas rubs at his arm, careful of the scratches that Xemnas is cleaning. “I’ve heard it. What’s it mean?” _

_ “It means he’s a jack-.” _

_ “No,” Xemnas interrupts. “It means he’s not nice. That he hurt you.” _

_ Ansem exhales through his teeth and looks over his shoulder. The house is empty except for the three of them now. He looks back at Vanitas and his smile comes back, not as big as it usually is. “We could watch a movie and you could learn lots of words.” _

_ Xemnas smacks him with a nearby hand towel. “Cut it out.” _

_ “I’m offering something nice!” _

_ Vanitas looks down at the scratches on his arm. “Movies are for when I do things right.” _

_ They’re both silent, Xemnas still rubbing medicine over the scratches. Ansem steps closer and bends down. “Let me tell you a secret, Vanitas. He doesn’t have a  _ **_damn_ ** _ clue what being right is. You did fine.” _

_ “I broke the vase.” _

_ “It was ugly anyway.” Ansem shrugs and takes one of his hands. “You told everyone what happened. That’s the right thing to do if you can’t clean it up yourself. You were right.” _

_ He was right. Vanitas bites down on his lip because he’s too old for crying anymore and nods. “Then I want a movie.” _

_ Ansem laughs. “Good!” He ruffles Vanitas’s hair as Xemnas puts the bandaids on. Vanitas ducks away, smacking at Ansem’s hand. Ansem, too big by far, waits until Xemnas is done and then scoops Vanitas right up off his seat. Dangling from his arm, Vanitas smacks at his hand, but he’s laughing. The sting in his arm from falling among the broken shards is forgotten. _

It tears him in half inside, the way he always has to argue with himself, with the sides in his head. Fix himself, stop being a weight that pulls down the family. It’s okay to lean on them, it’s okay to tell.

“Fuck it,” Vanitas spits. If he can’t trust them, he can’t trust anyone. He sends it to Xemnas  _ and _ Ansem and then marches over to get something sweet enough to make him sick.

As he watches the fryer spit around the funnel cake dough, Vanitas hears his phone ring twice. He digs it out quickly and almost considers ignoring the video call. But Ansem has never been stopped by manners before. His phone will ring all night. He swipes to answer and puts on his best pissed off face as he waits for Ansem’s image to appear.

“I am mortally wounded by this absolute betrayal. I thought we were blood, family, and you’ve done this to me.” Ansem is dressed for work in a button-down shirt and tie, but the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He also has sunglasses resting on top of his hair and Vanitas can see that he’s out to dinner at some restaurant that favors leather seats.

Vanitas arches an eyebrow. “Are you on a date?”

Ansem scoffs, “Don’t change the subject and no.” He flips the camera to show Xemnas on the other side of the table, clearly trying to eat a salad. The image flicks back to Ansem who is glaring at him. “Betrayal most foul by my closest brother!”

“Xemnas is your twin.”

“And biggest pain in my ass. You’re supposed to be the good one!” Ansem puts a hand to his chest. “My heart has been torn, ripped apart to nothingness by your coldness. How could you do this to me?”

Vanitas rolls his eyes, having trouble fighting back the grin that Ansem’s ham antics always draw out. “Is this about my summer vacation or about the picture?”

Ansem sniffs. “It’s about both.”

“But mostly the picture.” Xemnas’s voice is muffled, but understandable. “He’s trying to diet.”

“Ohhh,” Vanitas says. “You dumb bitch.”

Ansem scowls at him. “It’s the only thing I can do. My personality is obviously perfectly fine, so I must make my body match. Then-!”

“Chad will still be straight, you know.” Vanitas smirks at him now. “You’re really going to hate that you called me when this funnel cake comes in view in a minute.”

“Torture,” Ansem mutters. “College has made you an expert in torture techniques.”

“You called me,” Vanitas protests. “I just sent you the picture.” Already the awful itch under his skin is gone, the angry voices in his head always arguing about the things he should say and do are quiet. “I was trying to be nice and share.”

A breadstick is waved at him through the screen. “You’re going to share a lot more when I come find you.” Ansem takes a vicious bite, but retains his manners enough to not talk through it.

The idea of Ansem in this town is entirely too perfect and entirely too horrifying. He’d wear shirtless beach bum perfectly and also gladly never shut up as he offered his thoughts on everything from the bakery to the food to how hot the men are. Vanitas rubs one of his temples. “Good luck with that. I have a job, so if you do manage to find me, you can’t drag me wherever you want all day.” A paper plate already spotted with grease, but topped in the best of fried dough is placed in front of him. He shoots the worker a quick half-curl up of his lips and leaves it to cool. “I really don’t need my loser older brothers ruining my reputation here.”

“Again, my personality is perfect, so all I do would  _ improve _ your place in their eyes.”

“A shame you never use such a perfect personality for work.” Xemnas again, but this time Ansem flicks the camera around. Xemnas’s nose wrinkles at the filming and he pokes his salad with his fork. “Chad is not the sum of the company.”

Ansem scoffs off-screen. “Internal affairs and morale are incredibly important.”

“So, if I want to make sure everyone here likes me, I need to buy them all coffee and draw hearts on the cups?” It comes out before Vanitas can really think about and he sees Xemnas’s eyebrow go up. “I’m kidding...kind of.” He sighs and messes up the front of his hair. “I fucked up.”

Xemnas wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin, because he never goes to places without them, and then folds his hands in his lap. “Is this a fuck up where you need fires put out?”

“Or someone’s ass kicked?” The phone shifts, Ansem holding it out so they’re both in view.  _ God, sometimes he wishes he could still be there and not give a damn. _

He shakes his head, tugging at his hair with one hand. “No, it’s not...that. Just...Ventus fucking lives here!”

The twins trade a look, but it’s Ansem who asks the question on both of their minds. “Who?”

Vanitas wishes he could shove the words back into his mouth. He is not getting into this, he’s not! He absolutely is. He pulls a piece off his funnel cake and eats it, buying him a whole minute to think. Only after he’s got some of the cinnamon sugar covered mess in his stomach, does he actually try to explain. “He’s that kid, the one who kept showing up in my classes. Goody-two-shoes type with the perfect blond hair and is friends with everyone? Even the damn professors.”

Ansem snaps his fingers. “Got it! The boy you had a huge crush on!”

“I did not!” Vanitas goes furious red and curses his pale skin. “Not everyone is constantly getting stupid crushes on people, Ansem!”

“Right, sure.” He looks at Xemnas. “Isn’t this the one he called to complain about to us like once every two weeks?”

Xemnas nods. “Almost precisely. There was his hair-.”

“His obnoxious friendliness-.”

“Always arguing-.”

“And that he could keep up with our brilliant baby brother and even  _ understood the true meaning of _ ...whatever book it was.” Ansem flips a hand out carelessly. Xemnas nods agreement.

He has no choice. Vanitas looks up at the person behind the counter. “If I pay you twenty bucks, will you deep fry my phone?”

They grin at him and shake their head. “Nope. This is way better than watching that fry.”

Vanitas drops his head to the counter with a groan. “I did not have a crush on him. He was obnoxious and had no idea what it was like to actually fucking work hard.”  _ And if he actually cared about Ventus, if he actually wanted him to like him, he’d have never ever said something so fucking terrible. _

The worst part is he can’t even remember why. The words just came out too fucking fast. If anyone ever said it to him...he’d want them dead. 

“There, there, baby brother.” Ansem mimes patting his head. “So, what is the problem with an old crush being there?”

The humor in the worker’s face will vanish if the words come out. Ansem and Xemnas will shrug it off, but even a stranger’s kindness blows cold once they find out what a horrible person he is. Vanitas exhales. “I said something...really fucking awful to him. The kind of thing I’d hate to have said to me, about people I care about. He’s still fucking upset about it, of course he is. And now my coworkers are all going to know.”

He picks at his funnel cake, the sugar too sweet all of a sudden. Though really, his stomach has been tightening into a knot since he left the bakery. “It was nice to be known as someone other than the bastard kid of a bastard for a while.”

“Vanitas.” Ansem’s voice is surprisingly snappish. “You’re not a bastard.”

“I-.”

“ _ He _ is definitely a bastard and so is Xemnas.”

“Thank you.”

“But you’re not. You’re a little shit, but you’re also the kid who likes to bake and always found ways to do what you wanted no matter what  _ he _ said. You’re our baby brother and you’re a good fucking person.” Ansem throws his free hand up. “Who hasn’t fucked up?” He asks, too loudly for the restaurant no doubt. “Apologize and if they think you’re not worth their time then fuck them.”

Despite the feeling in his chest that tells him that he deserves to be distanced from humanity, Vanitas snorts. “You’re going to get kicked out if you keep shouting.”

Xemnas sighs. “This is why I always plan to tip more than normal. He’s incapable of being in public. But, he’s also correct. Despite certain parties’ best efforts, you are a decent person, Vanitas. Apologize to them and then move on. If they choose to linger over hurt feelings and old grudges, then they’re not worth your time.”

They  _ are _ just a bunch of teenagers. Still, Vanitas will feel like the puppet he’s supposed to be becoming. He nods and pulls another piece of the funnel cake apart. “Sure, but that’s enough about me. How are things there?”

Xemnas can talk about work forever and Ansem happily overrides him to discuss internal and external drama. Sitting there with the ocean stretching behind him as they interrupt each other and argue, it’s almost like the best parts of the house he left behind. Vanitas picks the funnel cake apart as the knot in his stomach eases and a handful of people come up and get their own snacks. It’s actually getting dark-dark now, so in the next pause for breath, he tells his brothers he needs to head home.

Ansem flaps a hand at him. “Tell the less attractive side of your family hello.”

“Do call us again,” Xemnas adds. “We like confirmation that you’re not dead.”

“Yeah, yeah, as long as it doesn’t get back to other people.” Vanitas shoots Ansem a look. “Zip it, okay?”

Ansem draws an imaginary zipper over his grin. “Zipped.”

“Yet somehow, you keep talking.” Xemnas shakes his head. “Good night, Vanitas.”

“Night.” Vanitas ends the call before they start another argument with each other. He knows that neither of them will sell him out, but...no, he’s safe. He balls up his trash and tosses it into the closest can. Hands shoved into his pockets, he meanders toward the closest set of stairs back down to the normal streets. 

_ Ventus still remembers me and definitely hates me...but there’s no going back in time. If I get a chance, I’ll say I’m sorry and that’s that. _ Vanitas glances up at the sky, but the lights block out most of the stars that might be visible.  _ First, I have to talk to the staff. _ Maybe, he’ll get lucky and they’ll be like Axel.

It’d be nice if they understood, even without knowing the whole story.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! It's been a bit! Life's been kind of crazy for me and truthfully, I got some pretty hard writer's block for what was supposed to be Chapter 13. I had to change some things around and work over that hump, but we're back in business! And this is no short chapter either, so I really hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Thanks always for reading!

The walk to the bakery first thing in the morning is usually a good time to center himself, to breathe and be in the cool summer air as the sun begins to brighten the horizon. Fewer people are out, quietly attending to their tasks in the fresh morning air. It might be Vanitas’s favorite time in Port Matahari. It’s a shame that he can’t enjoy it this morning.

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, Vanitas fights the urge to chew on the skin of his lip. He slept like shit, tossing and fucking turning until even Blob got sick of it and went to sleep somewhere quieter. His thoughts wouldn’t let him go, twisting in circles and constantly reminding him of the furious anger on Ventus’s face, the blank look Xion gave him as he left work. He fucked up and for some damn reason, he really cares that the people here don’t know that.

‘Some damn reason,’ ha. He was doing better at being nothing like the person he was raised to be. He was being someone else, someone people could see as Sora’s half-brother, someone people tolerated in the bland way instead of the way he knows best. If people could just see his mom on him instead...

Vanitas exhales harshly, almost bites down on his tongue, and stops walking. “Hell,” he mutters. “ _ Hell and fuck _ .”

“It’s too early for that,” Sora says and then yawns. “How can you be awake enough to be that angry already?”

“You know, I’m not the one who’s supposed to be keeping people from drowning in the ocean in like twenty minutes.” Vanitas breathes in and it doesn’t make him feel better, but Sora’s a good distraction. 

It’s not often they head out at the same time; Vanitas is a decently early riser and doesn’t mind getting to work early, while Sora sleeps until the last minute to run down to the beach. Heck, maybe it’s the run that wakes him up. But their mom shoved Sora out the door right after him this morning and told him to get there early. Apparently, she got a call from their supervisor about ‘responsibility.’ It sounds like bullshit to Vanitas. Sora’s a great lifeguard, a couple minutes late or not. He actually gives a damn about people.

Sora shrugs in response. “I’ll wake up once I’m on the beach. What are you mad about?”

Vanitas pulls a face, nose wrinkling. “Nothing. The general state of the world. Politics. Pick one.”

“Very clear and convincing.” Sora yawns again, but his eyes are sharp as they look at Vanitas. “Is it work? I doubt Ven’s going to be by again.”

Is he that fucking transparent or is Sora actually a mind-reader? Vanitas sticks his tongue out at Sora. “It’s not him, god.”

“So it is work somehow.” Sora smirks at him and starts walking forward. “Are Isa and Axel bugging you? Mom could have words.”

“I am  _ not _ having Mom come in and tell my bosses off. Holy shit, that’s the worst fucking thing I can imagine.” Vanitas follows him, catching up with a couple long strides. He considers the mental image of their mom, short but fierce, against Isa and Axel and then grins. “Okay, it’d be awful to be the cause, but it’d be hilarious too. Please tell me they’d be cowed.”

Sora laughs, brightening the air around them. “She’s Mom, of course they’d be cowed. I think the only one Axel is more scared of upsetting than her is the ice cream lady. But, I’m not sure that she’s not his  _ actual _ mom, so, you know.” 

Vanitas shakes his head. “What a fucking small world this town is.”

“Yeah, yeah, small beach town, tourist spot, what have you. So, what’s going on at work?” Sora slowly lifts an eyebrow and Vanitas gives up on the defense.

“...Hoping to keep my head down didn’t work. People know I’m an ass now.” Thanks,  _ Ventus. _ Vanitas may be guilty of  _ being _ an ass, but he could have done without Ventus outting him to his coworkers. “It could be tense today. Depends on if word’s gotten around.”

Sora frowns slightly, his eyebrows drawing together. “Who are you working with today?”

“Roxas picked up a counter shift this morning and Xion’s supposed to be in to help with the brunch rush.” Vanitas memorized the schedule early on and figures it’s a good habit to have. He’s learned small things, enough to know what to expect when he’s working with each of them. Olette likes to hang in the doorway between the front and the kitchen when it’s slow, talking about her friends and their crazy ideas. Xion’s been on a tear to make him answer questions, pretending it’s a game she can win. Roxas stays at the counter, on his phone until Isa spots him and makes him do a bit of cleaning before he sits down again. Naminé’s the politest. She stays quiet when there’s no one there, restocking the display or staring off into space.

They’re not bad kids. He actually kind of likes them.

“Roxas won’t care about you being a jerk. He probably thinks it makes you cooler.” Sora adjusts the strap of his bag, letting it thump against his side instead of his back. “And you know Xion. She’s a great person! I doubt she’ll be mad at you for whatever.” He waves a hand. “You’ve been yourself at work. They know you’re not a jerk.”

Right,  _ sure. _ Sora sees the best in everyone, including his idiot brother. Vanitas shakes his head as they see the boardwalk up ahead. “Sure, yeah.”

Sora pats his shoulder, a bit harder than usual as if he can transfer some confidence over. “And if they are mad at you, say sorry and you’re good!” 

“I hate apologies,” Vanitas mutters and bites the inside of his cheek.  _ Apologies are an admittance of weakness. _ Sora’s staring at him and he sighs. “But, you’re right, okay? Fuck off.”

Sora grins, gets a hand in his hair and messes it up, and then takes off running. “Have a good day! I’ll see you after work!”

“Fucker!” Vanitas shouts after him, safe in the knowledge that there aren’t kids around just yet. And if they are, well, life’s a damn education. He cuts a block left and then another up, arriving at the back door to the bakery. He stops, half-hidden behind the stack of recycling waiting for pickup, and stares at the door.  _ They’re just some damn kids. What do they know about me? _ He steps around a couple of empty boxes, hand digging deeper into his pocket for his gum.

“Holy shit!” There’s a short squeal and Vanitas jumps backward. He saves himself from getting rammed into by the back wheel of someone’s bike and looks up with a glare. The rider is already looking at him and grimacing. “Sorry,” Roxas says quickly. “I didn’t see you behind all the damn recycling.”

Vanitas might have been hiding, just a bit. He shrugs and unwraps a piece of gum. “It’s fine. Nice bike.” It’s a bicycle, a simple white one without anything fancy added to it. It doesn’t even have a basket on the front.

Roxas shoots him a look and pulls a bike lock from his backpack. “Shut up. It’s a pain in the ass to park around here. Even Isa doesn’t have a fucking car.”

“Axel does.” Vanitas waits for him to get his bike secure and then pulls his keys out to let them in the back. After he proved he wasn’t a murderer or a thief, Axel gave him a copy to open with. Isa always closes. “Are you old enough to drive?”

“Fuck off,” Roxas grumbles. “I could take the test if I wanted to.” He slides past Vanitas and heads for the staff closet. The lights are already on, but Axel was supposed to be on the early shift to get the baking started for the day. Vanitas pulls the back door shut, locking it behind them. Roxas leans back out of the closet to squint at him. “Do you drive? You walk here.”

Vanitas shrugs his jacket off. “I’ve got my license. No car.” He  _ could _ have a car if he went back to school and the expectations he’s supposed to be meeting. “I’d rather have a motorcycle to be honest.”

Roxas groans. “It’s fucking crap that Isa has a motorcycle. He’s not supposed to be cool.”

“Seriously?” Vanitas asks with a laugh. “Isa’s pretty cool. You’re just a brat.” He opens the office door, hanging his coat on the hanger. “Hey Isa.”

“Good morning, Vanitas. Tell Roxas we appreciate him working the counter this morning.” Isa doesn’t look up from the computer, typing away.

Vanitas hums acknowledgement and then shuts the office door again. Roxas is standing there, sticking his tongue out. Vanitas snorts again. “Very mature,” he says, softer than before.

“You’re an asshole,” Roxas fires back. “May all your cookies burn.”

“Is that a curse? Are you hexing me?” Vanitas rolls his eyes. “I’m the witch here. Get moving before that actually comes true and you have to explain to the customers why we’re short on everything.”

Roxas waves a hand, but goes, leaving the path to the kitchen clear for Vanitas. Clearly, whether he’s heard about the story from Ven or Xion, he doesn’t care enough to fight with Vanitas over it. Great. Hopefully everyone else follows suit.

Walking into the kitchen, Vanitas tugs an apron from a hook, and sinks into the warm, familiar atmosphere of baking.

* * *

The morning goes quickly. Axel forgot about the day’s special, coffee cake, but it doesn’t take the two of them long to get a solid batch in the ovens. People will love getting it warm, so it’s barely even a rough spot. He still has to tell Axel that he’s  _ good _ and  _ please go take your fucking break _ , but eventually, Axel’s out for at least an hour. The guy can be such a nanny.

Vanitas gets into the rhythm easily, leaving the radio on the same station Axel had it tuned to. It’s good background noise and as people start to crowd in for breakfast and morning snacks, Vanitas is glad to return to the kitchen every time he has to step out and restock something. It goes so quickly, he doesn’t even notice when Xion arrives.

“Vanitas! We need more of the raisin rolls when you’ve got a minute. Hopefully, in the next two for us!” Xion not looking at him, but her tone’s the normal, ‘We’re busy but I won’t sound frustrated in front of the customers’ one.

“Sure, fresh batch is cooling right here.” Vanitas tries to reply in kind. He quickly shoves the next cookie tray into the oven and grabs one of the display baskets. With quick, precise movements he loads it up with the raisin rolls and takes it through the swinging door.

There’s at least a dozen people in line and a dozen more crowded around the few tables inside. Through the windows, he can see that the patio tables are just as full. Vanitas doesn’t make a face; he pushes for expressionless as he switches the full basket for the empty one in the case. “All full, Xion. You running low on anything else?” Even as he asks, he scans the cases for empty spots.

Xion is already grabbing two of the rolls and dropping them into the brown paper to-go bags. She hands them over to an elderly man with a smile and then wipes her forehead on her arm. “I think we’re good for this rush. You’ve got more of the cinnamon rolls in? I think those will go before this is over.”

“Yeah, should be enough. They’re about ten minutes more to cool and then I can ice them.”

“Great, good to know.” She turns back to the orders lined up and waiting, and Vanitas doesn’t think.

His fingers wrap around her elbow, stopping her from going back to work. She jumps a little and then looks at him. “Vanitas? What’s up?”

He grimaces and quickly drops her arm. “Sh-, once the rush is over and Roxas can cover the counter, I need to talk to you.” Vanitas pauses and can practically hear Sora shouting in his ear. “If that’s okay with you,” he adds.

Xion blinks, glances at the crowd, and then smiles at him slightly. “Yeah, of course. If I survive the zombie hoard, I’ll pop into the kitchen.”

“Good.” That sounds so short and Vanitas exhales through his teeth. He used to be better at talking to people, but he also used to not give a shit about their  _ feelings. _ He has to say something. “Scream if you need something asap.”

It works well enough; she snorts. “The real trouble will be if you hear Roxas screaming. Then you’ll know I’ve turned.” Xion turns back to the display and the next order, smiling kindly as she grabs different items from the cases with well-practiced speed.

Vanitas retreats to the kitchen before he does anything like grin at the idea of moving all the baskets to mess up her muscle memory. That teeters on the edge of being a dick, but it’d be kind of funny not during a rush. He sets the empty basket in the sink to be cleaned and puts a hand to his neck. He rolls it left and right, but it doesn’t do a thing to ease his tension.

He’s almost never actually  _ relaxed _ , except maybe at home on the couch with a cat curled on his chest and purring away. That’s comfortable, that’s home. Vanitas breathes in and can smell everything in the kitchen: the cookies, the flour, the spices. It smells good, it smells familiar. He allows himself a small smile. Alright, here’s not so bad either.

_ ‘Apologize and if they think you’re not worth their time then fuck them.’ _ Ansem’s advice isn’t the soundest, but Vanitas can admit that this is not worth stewing over. Understanding or not, he can keep working here.

The timer on oven two beeps and he goes to get out a fresh sheet of cookies. The smell fills the room, and business is better at keeping him busy. He falls back into the rhythm of work and pushes Ventus, Xion, and the past from his mind. Denial is a valuable skill.

Baking sheet to cooling rack to display tray, it’s mechanical. Drop more dough in round piles onto a clean sheet while the ovens are full, then switch them out when the timer goes off. Watch cookies and rolls pile up by the dozens. It’s a simple process, machines can do it, but Vanitas lifts a cookie from the cooling rack and breathes in the warm smell of peanut butter. A machine could do it, but he can do it  _ better _ . He takes a bite and feels the warmth of satisfaction from making something good curl through him.

“Thief,” someone whispers directly behind him and Vanitas chokes. A hand gives him a slap on the back and he can breathe again. Vanitas glares over his shoulder and up at Axel. Axel just grins at him. “Lucky for you, it’s your turn for a break. Take your stolen goods out of my kitchen.”

Still glaring, Vanitas takes another bite and then grabs another cookie. He swallows and then says, quite clearly, “Fuck you.”

Axel just winks at him. “There’s the morale you bring to the team, Vanitas. Seriously, go take a break. Crowd’s thinned out for now, so go before you overheat.”

The door to the front swings open and Xion sticks her head in. “Did you say Vanitas is going on break? Perfect! Roxas has the counter, so we can talk.” She comes into the kitchen and right up to the cooling cookies. “Are these peanut butter?”

“Vanitas already took two, so take one too, I  _ guess _ . Don’t tell Isa.” Axel swings an apron on and then grabs the oven handle with a spin around. “Or Roxas, but I don’t think he’s up for an allergy attack to get out of work.”

“Depends on how many more mommies ask about gluten today,” Xion replies. She picks up two of the cookies and then turns to Vanitas. “Out back or upstairs?”

Vanitas hasn’t really gone upstairs, except to collect ingredients and replacement scoops as needed. But, it offers more privacy than the back door loading area. He nods toward the ceiling. “Upstairs is fine.”

Xion takes the lead, heading into the back hall and around the hard to spot corner to the stairs. Vanitas follows, fully expecting any words he says to come out poorly. Plans? That would just be another thing to fuck up. He’s winging it and winging it like a bird that’s got one broken fucking wing.

It’s shit like that that always makes Vanitas question why he likes literature so much when clearly, none of its prose sticks to him in any way. He shakes his head at himself, doesn’t matter when he’s not going back to school, and follows Xion into the storage space on the second floor.

She waves a hand and coughs. “Ugh, we really need to clean up here.”

“All the boxes and packages are sealed. Axel and Isa are just riding on not having any asthmatics on staff.” Vanitas looks between the boxes for a semi-comfortable place to sit.

Xion sticks her tongue out. “It used to be better, but we haven’t hung out much up here this summer. Come on, let’s see how bad the couch is.”

“Couch?” Vanitas turns to look. Xion ducks around a couple stacks of old, empty milk crates and waves him after her. He arches an eyebrow and follows, interested despite himself. Hidden away in the corner, there is a long, lumpy looking black and white couch. Xion is kicking it gently and then plops down on one end.

“Not as dusty as I thought. Maybe Axel is cleaning it when he naps up here. Or Isa is to keep him from choking to death in his sleep.” Xion shrugs, as if it makes no difference to her, and then nods toward the other end. “Sit. Let’s talk about stuff before Roxas starts crying about doing all the work.”

There’s something about Xion, some energy to her that makes her hard to dislike. She’s young, if three years make that much a difference, but she’s got a fierce attitude that makes Vanitas want to encourage her to keep it up. Fight back against the world because it will never stop trying to beat you down.

He knows  _ some _ good advice and even believes it once in a while. Doesn’t mean she needs to hear it from him.

Vanitas sits on the other end, stretching his legs out with a sigh. “He complains a lot. Is he that spoiled?”

Xion snorts. “Kind of? I mean, he doesn’t get everything he wants or anything, but he’s a bit lazy over the summers. And he’s all about things being fair for everybody. He doesn’t want to have to shoulder responsibilities because other people think he should.” She takes a bite of the cookie, getting almost half of it into her mouth. Vanitas is privately impressed. She arches her eyebrows as she chews.  _ Get talking. _

He looks away.  _ How do I even start? The truth is exactly what she already believes. Even if she’s acting like everything Ventus told her hasn’t crossed her mind today. Bastard with a stupid angel face. _ Vanitas bites the inside of his cheek, the slight pain pulling his mind to it instead of his goddamn twisted up feelings about Ventus. What Ventus told her is  _ true _ , but it’s not the whole story.

“Ventus told you about what I acted like in college, about how I was a dick to him.” There’s no arguing it, Vanitas states it as fact. “I’m not saying I wasn’t. I said that shit to him and wasn’t fucking sorry about it.”

“Huge dick move,” Xion says, but her voice isn’t icy or anything.

“Yeah, biggest of dick moves.” Vanitas wants to crumble the cookie he’s holding, squeeze his fist shut, and feel his hard work go to pieces. There’d been a sick sort of joy when he did it before, but now...it’d just leave a mess he has to clean up. “I’m an asshole, no question, no argument, and Ventus drove me fucking crazy in college. It was easy to get into arguments with him and make him mad and I  _ liked _ it.”

He glances at her. Xion’s expression is hard to read, but when their eyes meet, she arches an eyebrow up to her hairline. “I don’t think that’s the best way to like, interact with someone?”

“Fuck,” Vanitas says with a harsh chuckle. “You know, the only good relationships I’ve ever had are with my brothers, and even those are fucking clusterfuck thanks to how we were raised.” He sets the cookie down on the arm of the couch and slumps forward. “Sora’s an exception. He was raised by my mom and well, you know him. Sora is a really good fucking person, sees the good in everyone. It’ll probably get him mugged some day, if not fucking worse.”

“I’m not a good person. My-.”  _ Not him, not now. _ “My family’s a fucking mess. We were always supposed to be competing to be the best. Doesn’t matter what tactics you use, be the fucking  _ best _ . You define what you’re worth in this world. You define what you’re worth in my family.”  _ If you aren’t the best, then you are worthless. _ Vanitas takes a breath and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.

He is not dumping all of his damn baggage onto a sixteen year old.  _ Just, tell her about Ventus, about you now.  _ “The point is, Xion, I’m not going to say that I wasn’t the worst to Ventus. I was. I was a fuck and an asshole and it’s better to just...keep the two of us apart. He’s got plenty of reasons to rip my face off. But, I’m trying to be better. ‘S why I’m here instead of...elsewhere.” Vanitas presses down on his eyes until he sees spots, waiting for an answer. When none comes, he sits up, blinking his vision back into focus.

Xion’s still on the other end of the couch, mouth busy with chewing up the other half of her cookie. She’s frowning slightly, not directly at him. Vanitas has time to get the spots off his vision before she swallows. Absently, she brushes a few crumbs from her cheek and her eyes meet his.  _ They’re almost as honestly blue as Sora’s. _ Maybe that’s why he wants her to tolerate him.

It’s impossible to know what Xion’s thinking, but she nods to him. “Okay, obviously you’re not going to tell me everything about you. I get it, we’re coworkers, I’m the annoying high schooler, whatever. But, I appreciate you talking to me? I mean, obviously you’re not a complete dick. You’re like the quietest person who works here and that’s not dick behavior. You suck at twenty questions and I will use Sora as an in to see your cats, but I mean, you’re fine. We’re fine?” She shrugs. “I will definitely tell you every way that you can fuck right off if you try to say anything rude to me. That’s a promise.”

And then she grins at him, like it’s that easy. That of course she trusts in his recent behavior and knows it wasn’t some weird kind of cover as he plotted his asshole return to form. It’s incredibly strange for someone to have  _ faith _ in him, someone that’s not related to him. 

Vanitas exhales and sits upright again. He offers her a hand and Xion looks at it in confusion. Vanitas huffs in amusement. “It’s a deal,” he says, shaking his hand in the air. “I’ll prove that I’m not the same asshole who tormented Ventus in college, or trying not to be, and you tell me if I’m ever really being a goddamn dick to you or someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

Xion outright  _ laughs _ , bursting into great laughs that fill the space and make it seem brighter. She takes his hand, still giggling. “Oh Vanitas, that’s not a  _ deal. _ That’s just living life. But, I’ll shake your hand if it makes you feel all official about this.”

He goes an embarrassed red and looks away. “Fuck me for trying to give you something to rub my nose in when I fuck up,” he mutters.

She pats his hand with her free one. “There, there. You really are Sora’s dumb brother.”

“Hey!” Vanitas pulls his hand away. “I’m the smart one, hello.”

“Maybe in school, but clearly Sora has all the actual social life skills.” Xion sticks her tongue out at him, then reaches past him to grab his cookie. “But hey, you’re a baker, so even if you suck at friends, you won’t starve.”

Vanitas sighs. “Yeah, yeah, my one appealing quality.”

“Plus the cats.” Xion breaks the cookie in half and offers one piece back to him. “Not too bad.”

“True, Blob is appealing even if the other two aren’t.” Vanitas takes the offered cookie half. He  _ made _ them, but it still feels something like a gift. He returns it with an honest smile that makes Xion grin.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just did NOT want to work with me, I swear. But here it is and the next one will be quite the thing. Enjoy!

When the storm clouds started building, Demyx was already prepared. A couple weeks here and he’s got the summer storm strategy locked down to near perfection. Pack up his gear, give anyone hanging around a nice little quip about rain, and then find some place to spend a few hard earned dollars on a meal and a reason to not kick him out until the rain blows over. Perfection.

“Oh, come  _ on! _ ” Demyx drops his phone to the table and slumps back with a groan. His distress is overridden by a loud burst of thunder outside. “Fuck you!” He flips off the closest window. “Summer storms are supposed to be quick. How is it supposed to storm all night?” The weather forecast on his phone shines bright colors at him, unchanged by his frustration. The radar shows a beautiful rainbow of misery set to last the next several hours with no signs of letting up or even diverting course.

So much for perfection. It’s time for a back-up plan. Scooping up his phone, Demyx opens up his contacts and stares at them hard. Okay, he’s been here for a couple weeks, he’s got a good reputation. Is it worth it to spend the money on one of those shitty motels? God knows what could be living in the old mattresses, but he could sleep on the floor and be dry? Ugh, no, it’s not really worth the risk to his stuff. Alright, so money saved, but where else can he go? Sure, he’s almost got what might be a friend or two, but that’s a lot of charity to ask even just for the couch…

_ Ceiling in my apartment leaks like crazy and the landlord hasn’t made it over yet to patch it. Any chance of loaning me your couch? _ Ugh, it’s a good story if he really feels like he knows the person, but he doesn’t think he’s gotten there yet.

“Back-up, back-up it is,” he mutters. It never takes long for certain types of people to sniff him out, but it’s a bit easier to hide when the place is already so transient. High vacation season in a beach town is the perfect time for him to disappear. Yet,  _ somehow _ , a busybody already found him out and told him to call if he needed anything. Bluh. Well, to be fair, Ira doesn’t seem like the worst nosy busybody that’s ever tried to help him, but everybody has a limit. Demyx is not interested in finding anyone’s.

So, he’ll stew about it and hope the storm actually disappears before he has to break down and call the guy.

“You want a refill on the lemonade?” The waitress has swung around again, tray tapping against her legs as she swings it back and forth. She’s definitely the summer job type, so Demyx hasn’t worried about getting kicked out anytime soon. No one pays enough to make it worth it.

He smiles at her. “That’d be great. Rain always makes me thirsty.”

She smiles back. “Yeah? It makes me think about rolling in the mud when I was a kid.”

“You’re still a kid.”

“Sixteen actually.” She flicks his arm and takes the cup. “Lemonade refill coming up courtesy of Everybody’s Mom.”

Demyx does not get the theme of this place, but he nods. When he ducked in to get away from the rain, he expected the usual sort of beach sandwich shop. It’s called ‘Your Mom’s Sandwiches and Sliders’ even though the picture on the wall of the owner is definitely a guy. Well, whatever, as long as nobody comes in and asks to be called ‘mommy.’

He looks back at his phone and refreshes the radar. The colors continue to paint a rainbow of a storm over town for at least the next six hours. “Bullshit,” Demyx mutters and slumps down in his chair.

The door swings open, admitting rain, thunder, and a very large blue umbrella. The last closes as the door swings shut, revealing two people in rain-soaked coats. The taller figure sets the umbrella in the waiting bin by the door as the younger shakes his head, scattering water off his hair.

“Welcome to Mom’s!” Two of the staff members call out and Demyx bites his lip so he doesn’t laugh at the expression on the young man’s face. A second later he realizes he knows the young man and feels his face go red. Oh great, Ienzo can yell at him for flirting with the waitress or something. He seems like that type of person.

“Such a storm. You’re lucky we were already on our way here.” The older man, a second glance reveals him to be Ienzo’s dad, sweeps his hair back and strides toward the counter. Demyx gets a good view of the fact that he’s wearing a long doctor’s coat instead of a raincoat. Maybe florist coats look like doctor coats. Do florists even need coats?

Ienzo is wearing an actual raincoat and mutters to no one as he shakes the arms off. He’s still loud enough for Demyx to hear. “Like I’m the one incapable of feeding myself when others are out.”

Demyx snorts and then tries very hard to pretend that it was at his phone and not Ienzo snarking at his dad. Ienzo’s a nerd, one that definitely thinks he’s some kind of immoral, drifter douche, and Demyx will not give him an opening.

Luck and societal good manners are not on his side. “Demyx, how do you keep popping up in places I frequent?” Ienzo’s tone isn’t  _ accusatory _ ...yet. When Demyx looks up, however, Ienzo is standing there, arms crossed over his chest and giving him a look. It’s the kind of look where one eyebrow is raised and the lips are just waiting to be pursed.

He sighs, gustily, a good performance of annoyance. “You know, you might live here, but that doesn’t make you the only person with taste in this town. I know a good sandwich shop when I smell one.” Demyx twirls a finger at the ceiling, encompassing the whole of the shop. “And this is a prime sandwich shop. I was drooling before I walked in.”

Ienzo presses his lips together briefly. “Flattering. Is that how you pick every place you go? Drool?”

“Yes,” Demyx says, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Don’t you?”

“Of course not.” Ienzo rolls his eyes. “But everybody knows Mom’s food is always delicious...even if they’re not the best running places.”

Shit, maybe Ienzo has answers. “I almost thought the name was a really sneaky ‘your mom’ joke. Who’s the titular lady?” Demyx gestures toward the portrait on the wall. “Because that? That looks like a guy.” He holds a hand out, already prepared for Ienzo’s next argument. “And yeah, yeah, don’t judge by appearances, but I’m rightfully confused and not local. Help me out.”

Ienzo lifts a hand to cover his mouth, but it doesn’t hide the slight narrowing of his more visible eye. It could almost be a smile, but it’s probably a grimace he’s hiding. Demyx decides to not let it bother him, even if the idea of making Ienzo smile wide enough that he wants to hide it makes  _ him _ want to grin. “It’s one man, you’re not wrong there. I have no idea where the Mom nickname came from. I don’t think Even even knows his real name and he’s spoken to him a handful of times.”

“Damn. Well as long as the food is good.”

“Speaking of,” Ienzo says and points at the table Demyx is at. “You’ve got a drink. It must be difficult to judge the quality of the food with only a drink.”

Observations like that used to make his blood run cold, fear trickling down his spine in an awful scale that was harsh noise on his ears.  _ Do they know? Will they call the police? Will they call my parents? _ Now, it’s old hat, the misdirection and the false smile. Demyx waves a hand. “The lemonade is great, and actually I already scarfed the sandwich down. It was great. Truly magnificent and I’m sad that there’s not room in me for a second.” For once, it’s not a lie. He did have enough money for actual food.

Ienzo rolls his eyes again. “Great, good to know. Did you get the loaded fries? Because those are the best thing on the menu, no arguments allowed.”

Shit, loaded fries sound amazing. Demyx shakes his head. “No, I was focused on the-.”

“Ienzo! Come tell them your order.”

Ienzo sighs as if he’s actually annoyed to be pulled away from arguing with Demyx about nothing. “I better do that. He has no taste and puts banana peppers on everything.” He turns and walks up to the counter, saying something that makes his father huff at him.

They’re a weird pair, but Demyx talked to Even for maybe five minutes and that guy is just weird in general. Any kid raised by him would be weird too. That said, other than Ienzo’s really strong rejection of flirting at the flower shop, he’s not too bad. He’s obviously a  _ nerd _ , but he talks to Demyx, probably the same way he talks to anybody else. Maybe he’s just lacking in social skills since he talks to adults more than people his age.  _ Total nerd. _

Thunder rumbles outside and Demyx looks at the nearest window with a scowl. Another  _ go fuck yourself _ from the universe tonight. Time to suck it up and call.

...

He  _ really _ doesn’t want to call.

Demyx drops his head into his hands and rubs at his face. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a home to go to in the rain? To know you have a fucking bed and food all the time and never have to worry about being freezing cold? That’d be just fucking stellar, but hey, life doesn’t work that way for everyone. He has to fucking deal. He’s already too old to be pushed into a home. He’s old enough to  _ work _ .

Ugh, he hates this. Pity parties are useless and fuck depressive funks. Demyx grabs his glass of lemonade and takes a long drink out of it. The sugar helps some with wanting to put his head through a wall. He stretches his hand out and picks up his phone. He stares at the dark screen, frowning at his reflection. He looks  _ fine _ . How the hell did he get caught by this guy anyway? Shit, what if it’s some kind of weird thing? Maybe it’s a cult. Maybe this whole town is a cult!

“Demyx, good evening to you. I’m glad to see both you and your instrument are safe from this awful weather.” 

Demyx jumps at the voice suddenly beside him. He jerks around to look at Ienzo’s dad and honestly can’t think of a single thing to say for a beat. “Uh,” he finally says, “yeah, I’m pretty protective of her. A drip starts and I’m moving inside.”

“A wise choice for any string instrument.” Even nods to himself. “Hopefully, your means of conveyance home provides similar protection for you.”

“What?” Demyx looks at him in confusion. What about him says he’s waiting for a ride home?

“He means however you’re taking your stuff home.” Ienzo pulls out a chair at the table next to Demyx’s and sits down. “Even, stop bothering him.”

Even shoots Ienzo a look, one that looks angled directly down his nose, but Ienzo ignores him, pulling his phone out. Even huffs. “You were talking to him before me, boy. Don’t get smart.”

“Yeah, get a little dumber instead,” Demyx says before he can stop himself. “Then you’ll be a bit nicer.” That gets him a glare that’s like ice, but Demyx grins anyway. “Just saying.”

“I find intelligence is no marker for manners or good behavior. Idiots are born at every intellectual level.” Even sets his coat over the back of the chair opposite Ienzo, but does not sit down. It’s not many a person that can make Demyx feel short, but Even is certainly close. Hell, Demyx sits up a bit straighter just so he doesn’t feel like he’s craning his neck back. “If I am ‘bothering’ you, Demyx, do let me know. Some people think I’m not aware of when I’m being a nuisance or some such nonsense.” He gives his son another look and this time, Ienzo glares back.

Demyx coughs. “No, no, you’re good. I was just debating if I need to call my...ride.” Yeah, that, definitely that. God, he’s better at lying than this.

“Ah, well, better to get on that before it gets late.” Even flaps a hand at him. It reminds Demyx of certain teachers he had in school without the weird dismissive touch. “Ienzo, did you text Aeleus?”

“And Dilan. Aeleus says they’re doing fine. They’ll see us in the morning once the rain lets up and they can drive back here safely.” 

That sounds like family talk and Demyx tunes it out quickly. He looks back at his phone and sighs. With a tap of his thumb the screen lights up and he puts in his passcode. He hovers over the call button and then makes himself press it. He already memorized the numbers, better safe than sorry, and puts them in before he can reconsider the whole thing again.  _ Not a cult, please don’t be a cult. If they mention an intimate gathering of friends, you are out of there. _

The phone rings three times and then there’s a click. “Hello, Ira speaking.”

“Hey, it’s uh Demyx.”

“Demyx, hey! How are you doing?” Ira immediately sounds more cheery, almost weirdly friendly. That’s how he was on the boardwalk too when he forced his phone number into Demyx’s hand. “What a damn storm, huh?”

“Yeah.” Demyx shoves a hand through his hair. “Yeah, total mess and all night too.” Shit, Ienzo and Even are right  _ there. _ If they’re listening...he can’t say the truth.

“You need a place to crash? Couch is free if so. It sounds like we’re in for a miserable night. I’d rather know you’re somewhere dry instead of out in it.”

God he hates this shit so  _ much, _ but it’s better than some roach infested hotel. He tugs at his hair and swallows the sigh that might get the damn charity taken back. “Yeah, that would be...seriously appreciated. I didn’t expect the storm to last.”

“Yeah, they surprise you sometimes.” There’s some kind of shifting on the other side and then, “Where are you at? We’ll come pick you up so you’re not getting soaked.”

_ And _ he’ll look like a normal person heading home to Ienzo and Even. Perfect. “I’m at that Mom’s Sandwich shop place.”

Ira chokes on the other end of the line. “Oh my god. Yeah, okay we’ll swing by. Look for a silver car. Fucking work,” he mutters and then hangs up.

Demyx shakes his head and pockets his phone. “Okay, sure, weirdo.”

“Everything alright?” Even is looking at him as he asks and Demyx fights back a grimace. He couldn’t have been listening, right? He has his own shit to worry about.

He slaps on a smile. “Yeah. I’m staying with my cousin while I’m here. You know how family can be.”

“Oh, do I.” Even folds his hands on the table and even without looking at anyone, Demyx can feel the jab. His smile grows a bit more genuine and he glances at Ienzo.

Ienzo is in the middle of rolling his eyes. “You adopted me. You built this weirdo family.” He puts his hand on the table and pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll get our food. Stay dry, Demyx.”

“Doing my best! Enjoy your mom’s sandwich!” Demyx waves to him despite the small distance. Ienzo turns slightly toward and sticks his tongue out. Demyx snorts. Ienzo’s less of a stick-in-the-mud than he thought. Lowering his hand back to the table, he fiddles with his phone, and then pockets it.

Shit, does Ira work here? Is the Mom thing a cult? “No way,” Demyx mutters to himself. “Who fronts a cult with a sandwich shop?”

“Despite his eccentric appearances and business ventures, I can assure you that the man is not leading any sort of cult.” Even is looking at him again. “At least I assume that’s what you’re talking about and not some other sandwich shop.”

Demyx smiles to cover the frustration at getting overheard. How good is this man’s hearing and why won’t he ignore him like most other people? Ugh. “Just a joke. I’m sure you guys don’t have a cult hanging around.”

Even shrugs. “No, not at the moment.”

_ What?! _ Demyx stares at him, trying to figure out a reply to the very calm, matter of fact tone that Even just used to tell him they don’t have a cult  _ at the moment _ , but before he can Ienzo returns to the table with a tray of food and Even is distracted. Which is his cue to get out of there before something ridiculous falls out of his mouth and these people decide he’s someone they need away from as soon as damn possible. He’d rather not have the locals think he’s rude or crazy.

Demyx stands, shouldering his bag and then his sitar case. “Well, my ride will be here any minute, so I’ll get out of your hair. Nice seeing you.” He moves toward the door, not expecting a real reply.

“Have a good evening, Demyx,” one of them calls, but he doesn’t turn until he’s at the door. Surprisingly, Even is still looking at him. Demyx gives him a quick wave and then pushes the door open. Somehow, the rain seems less uncomfortable than whatever that conversation was turning into. 

The people in this town that he keeps running into are goddamn weird. They keep seeing him, looking at him, and he’s spent his life with the opposite, using it to his benefit. Demyx tugs his hood up and shoves his hands into his pockets. At least if things go bad, he’s already got an exit planned.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been waiting to write this moment for MONTHS! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Roxas saw the car first.

It’s not the first bright red convertible he’s seen when some rich asshole comes for their vacation. He sees them pretty regularly when he runs deliveries to the fancy McMansion-type rental houses. Rich people love their fancy cars and love driving them down the shore and acting like the world is just so damn wonderful and beautiful, instead of facing the fact that their stupid investments in shit companies are destroying the environment and killing local businesses. Not that Roxas has opinions on politics or anything.

But this red convertible sticks out to him. Not because it’s better than the others or bigger, but because it’s sitting in traffic on the average end of the boardwalk. The rich almost never drive their fancy cars down where they could get hit and definitely have no interest in the cheap stands and rough carnival rides. It’s weird, almost as weird as the fact that the driver looks like they have long white hair.

Wouldn’t be the first weirdos Port Matahari has attracted, but Roxas likes it a lot better when the rich weirdos stay in the fenced area they made for themselves. With a shake of his head, he leans into the turn into the alley. A few careful maneuvers around the other buildings and then he can park behind the bakery. Roxas locks the scooter up, because he’s not paying for it if it gets stolen, and then heads in the back door, helmet under his arm.

The office door is open and Roxas heads in there first. Isa looks up from the computer. “Welcome back. How did it go?”

“Fine. Mr. Fitzherbet said they’re finally talking wedding cakes and was wondering if we’d be interested since we’re the best place in town.” Roxas tosses him the scooter keys and Isa drops them into the top drawer of the desk.

“I’m sure Axel will be up for it, but I’ll check the schedule and reach out to them. That’s not something we can do last minute if they’ve got a vision. And knowing those two…” Isa shakes his head.

Roxas grins. “Bet you anything it involves flowers and suns everywhere. Is there anything else going out?”

Isa clicks open the schedule and then shakes his head. “That’s it for today. Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m still here till three, so I’ll go see if the counter needs help.” Roxas backs out of the office and almost shuts the door behind him. It feels like Isa always has his eyes on him, as if the only incidents with fire happen while he’s in the building. Axel handled it! Roxas won’t fuck with the ovens anymore, geez.

He scoops up an apron as he passes by the kitchen and heads for the counter. He can hear talk, so there must be a decent group in right now. Not a huge surprise with the weather being so nice. Roxas ties the apron on and then steps out, stopping where he’s not in the way to get a look.

Naminé and Olette are running the counter, Naminé bagging orders with a smile as Olette rings everyone up. They’re doing good, but Naminé’s moving faster than the cash register can, so Roxas jumps over to get the second one up and running. Both girls smile at him, and they settle into work.

When they get a lull in the line, Roxas stands up to get them all a drink. Olette takes a long gulp and then sighs. “Why do I always forget my water bottle?”

“I really don’t know, Olette. You play sports; it should be attached to your hip.” Roxas leans against the counter, glancing toward the door to the hall, but Isa doesn’t appear to tell them to start sweeping the floor.

Olette points at him. “I play  _ basketball _ and nothing else. Don’t start with me, skater boy.”

“I don’t think anyone brings a water bottle. Maybe Vanitas does, he seems like that type of person.” Naminé hops onto one of the stools at the registers. “He’s very responsible.”

“Also the paranoid type. I think he thinks everyone spits in his food or something.” Roxas shakes his head. “I’ve seen him check drinks he’s been handed, Naminé, I’m not just spreading rumors.”

She huffs at him. “You better not be. He’s nice and Xion told me that he’s actually working on a lot of stuff.”

Roxas and Olette share a look; Olette shakes her head. Whatever conversation Xion has had, it hasn’t been shared with her either. Roxas decides not to care too much. Vanitas is cool if kind of weird and whatever his business is, it’s his business. “Good for him.”

“Speaking of strange people, how did deliveries go? Any naked people answer the door again?” Olette grins at him.

“That was supposed to be your day to run deliveries and I covered for you, so fuck you.” Roxas scowls at her. “No naked people. A question about a wedding cake and I saw one of those red convertibles not far from here on my way back. Sorry to not bring in the best stories of the day.”

Naminé hums. “I’ll never understand wanting a big, fast car. I like my bicycle and it’s much better to ride along quiet roads.”

“I agree,” Olette says. “If I can’t walk or bike there, what’s the point?”

“Driving a cool-ass motorcycle. I’m getting one someday.” Roxas sighs. “When I win the lottery or find a bunch of solid gold bars or something.” The girls chuckle and Roxas has to smile back. Who  _ wouldn’t _ want to find a bit of pirate treasure and make a dream or two come true? 

The bell over the door rings and all three of them straighten up automatically. Naminé’s smile widens when she recognizes him first. “Vanitas, hello! It’s not often you come in through the front.”

Vanitas shrugs. “I was having lunch with Sora, so it was more direct than the back. Are we behind on anything?”

“Axel’s got it under control.” Olette points her thumb at the door. “I think he was waiting for you for some special order you guys need to start today though.”

“Yeah, he mentioned it to me yesterday.” Vanitas sighs and circles around the counter to head back. “We’ve got a bunch of those mini cakes to make for some event or whatever. So, let us know earlier if you’re seeing something go more than normal.”

All three of them shoot him a thumb’s up and then he’s through the door. Olette leans her chin on her hand. “He really has relaxed since he started here. I don’t think he would have told us anything about  _ anything _ that first week.”

“We  _ were  _ all strangers,” Roxas points out. 

“Roxas, you’re one of Sora’s best friends and Ven’s brother and you didn’t know about him.” Olette arches an eyebrow. “You should have been the least stranger.”

He throws his hands up. “Ven didn’t tell me he had some mortal enemy in college! And I can’t keep up with everything Sora says. Give me a break!”

Olette laughs and tosses a napkin at him. “I’m kidding. Calm down, okay? You’re getting all heated like Hayner.”

“Hayner is a force unto himself. I am nothing like him.” Roxas blows the napkin away and takes a sip from his water. “Maybe we should have him come over. That’ll make the afternoon go quick.”

“He’s at work today. We won’t see him unless we swing by the park. He’s on hotdog duty until eight.”

“Damn.”

Naminé looks up from the small notepad she’s slipped from her pocket, pencil already in her hand. “Do we want to go tonight? I don’t have any plans if we wanted to ride.”

Olette hums. “I don’t have anything going on. We could invite everyone who’s free for some fun.”

“That sounds g-,” Roxas starts. A horn blares from right outside the building, making everyone around jump. Roxas turns to glare at the windows. “What the fu-.”

He’s cut off again by a shout that sounds just short of a megaphone. “Hey! Is Knuckles in?”

The door to the kitchen slams open, Axel striding through it and around the counter. His face is red, hands balling up his apron. “I’m going to strangle him,” he says with barely controlled fury.

The hall door opens too and Isa hurries out, grabbing Axel’s arm. “Absolutely not. That is not what you are doing.”

“Did you  _ hear him? _ ”

“I think the entire block heard him,” Isa says flatly. “That doesn’t mean you have to engage him on his level.”

Axel scowls harder. “What is he even doing here? I literally saw him posting on instagram about his coffee this morning!”

“Who are you guys talking about? Who the hell is that?” Roxas gestures toward the windows. “Axel, what the fuck?”

“Language, Roxas. You’re at work,” Isa snaps. Axel ignores him, rubbing his face with one hand and muttering fiercely. Roxas is about to tell Isa that he can go eat all the mayonnaise in the kitchen with a fork when the front door opens with a misplaced pleasant jingle from the bell. Everyone in the shop turns to look.

The man standing there grins as if he’s aware of the attention and happy with it. Dressed in a deep v-necked white t-shirt with bright pink shutter shades sitting atop his shockingly white hair, it only takes Roxas a moment to place him.  _ Rich convertible asshole. _ The man is looking at Axel and winks at him. “How are you doing?”

“I’m considering if I can still run my business after committing murder,” Axel snaps back. “What the fuck, Ansem?” His face is flushed with anger and he throws the apron at him. “This is my business, asshole!”

Ansem catches the apron and doesn’t stop grinning. “Congratulations. It looks great.”

Axel glares at him and then rubs his temples. “Thanks,” he mutters. “Is there a reason you’re here other than to ruin my reputation as an upstart but okay business owner?”

“Yeah, actually.” Ansem steps closer and pats Axel’s shoulder. “I honestly didn’t know this was your place until Xemnas read me some reviews. Really nice work and I’m definitely eating like everything you make...or dreaming about it.”

Isa arches an eyebrow. “Is Xemnas with-.”

“Please tell me your brother isn’t here  _ with _ you, because then I will have to kill you both.” Axel smacks Ansem’s shoulder. “You know we hate each other.”

“You guys are dramatic.” Ansem rolls his eyes. “Yes, Xemnas is here because he’s the one that actually got trusted with the address. And for some reason, he doesn’t trust me on my own here. So rude, am I right?”

Axel is now looking at him in confusion. “Wait, you didn’t know this was my place until you read reviews, but Xemnas had the address? Is he stalking me or something?” His gaze switches to Isa who shakes his head briefly.

“No, not your address - the house address. Vanitas only sent it to him. He’s here right? His mom said he was on his way to work so we should catch him here instead.”

“Vanitas?” Roxas blurts out. “You know Vanitas?”

All three of them turn to look at him. Ansem grins. “Yeah, from  _ birth. _ He didn’t tell you guys about his amazing older brother?”

Roxas shakes his head slowly and can see Olette and Naminé doing the same. Ansem flips his hair, not quite smacking Isa in the face with it. “Brat. I’m his favorite and this is how he treats me. Where the hell is he?”

“If he’s smart, halfway out the back door,” Isa mutters.

No fucking way. Roxas darts through the door to the kitchen and looks around quickly. Vanitas is nowhere in sight and he bangs open the door to the hall. “Vanitas!”

“Holy hell,  _ what? _ ” The door to the employee bathroom is just swinging shut and Vanitas is staring at him in obvious confusion. “Did you set the kitchen on fire?”

Roxas flushes. “Shut up, no. Your brother’s here.”

“Sora?” Vanitas frowns. “What’s he need?”

“No, not hi-.”

“Vanitas!” Someone shouts from the front. “I’m here for my funnel cake!”

Roxas gets to watch the color drain out of Vanitas’s face until his subtle freckles look like pen-drawn dots on white paper, and then see a red flush grow right back over his nose and cheeks. Vanitas drags a hand down his face, muttering under his breath what might be a prayer. Roxas crosses his arms and arches an eyebrow. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. “Not Sora.”

“Why is he  _ here _ ? I’m going to strangle him.”

“Axel said the same thing.”

Vanitas shoots him a confused look, then frowns. “I better go stop him.” He strides for the front and Roxas follows eagerly behind him. It’s not  _ gossip _ if it’s happening right in front of them, right? Totally. Roxas slips through the door behind Vanitas and back over to Olette and Naminé. Ansem has been moved closer to the counter with Axel as Isa moves between the customers, probably apologizing for the disruption.

Ansem looks up and frowns at Vanitas. “I’m wounded.”

“What are you doing here?” Vanitas snaps, arms folded over his chest. “I’m busy working and I told Xemn-.”

“You told him plenty that you didn’t me.” Ansem leans a hand on the counter, still frowning. “So, I’m here because I’m a concerned brother.” He stares Vanitas down, his eyes the same strangely bright brown. Vanitas scowls back, but after a long moment, he looks down.

Axel leans in between them, catching Ansem’s gaze. “He’s at work. Whatever family drama is going on, I’m not going to let you intimidate him out of work.” He pauses. “I mean unless someone died and you just don’t want to say it in front of all of us.”

That makes Ansem snort. “No, nobody died. We’ll let you know to schedule a party when it happens.” He pats Axel’s shoulder. “Fine, fine. We wanted to let him know we’re here. We can go back to his house until he’s off.”

“Oh god,” Vanitas mutters. 

Axel turns to look at him. “I mean, it’s up to you, Vanitas. Staying or going? I can do the cakes on my own, but we’ll have to rush decorating them tomorrow. Also, I can totally kick his ass, so don’t feel like he’ll intimidate me.”

“You want a rematch, Axel?” Ansem is starting to smirk and leans closer to Axel. 

Isa clears his throat right behind him. Axel puts a hand on Ansem’s face and pushes him away. “Vanitas?”

Vanitas rubs his temples like he’s a middle aged parent. “I’ll come back in like two hours. I cannot imagine the shit I will hear if they talk to my mom until I’m off.”

“Ah, embarrassing stories.” Axel nods. “Alright, text me before you head back and I’ll let you know how we’re doing. If I’m ahead, you don’t need to worry about it. Keep Xemnas off my property and I’ll pay you.”

Pulling off his apron, Vanitas rolls his eyes. “You pay me to work here. Let me get my shit, Ansem. Get out.” He turns and heads back into the kitchen.

Ansem waits for the door to swing shut again and then grins. “Love that kid. So…” He turns to the counter, pointing at the sugar cookie tray. “I’ll take two of those cookies. Do you know any of the lady’s favorites?”

“Ms. Hikari likes the strawberry shortcake,” Naminé says, frowning slightly. “You better not be rude to her.”

“I would never treat anyone here with anything less than the greatest respect.” Ansem presses a hand to his heart and then pulls a wallet out. “I’ll take a slice of that as well. If we’re going to drop in on her like this, the least we owe is something sweet.”

Roxas rolls his eyes and looks at Axel. Isa has disappeared into the back again and Axel is messing up his hair and staring at Ansem. Roxas leans into his view, eyebrows up. “You good?” He has a million questions to ask, because holy hell how has someone like Ansem never come up before, but those will wait until the man in question is gone.

Axel shrugs. “Fine. He’s an obnoxious disruption, but could be worse. His twin is a fucking nightmare.”

“Did you know Vanitas was related to them? You know  _ them _ pretty well.” Roxas keeps one eyebrow up. There’s no way Axel didn’t know, but he didn’t say anything. What’s with the secrets around Vanitas?

“I probably should have, but I didn’t. I knew they had a younger brother, but I thought I’d met him…” Axel shakes his head. “It’s whatever. The less I have to do with their family, the better.” He dusts his hands off. “I’m getting back to work. Let me know how things are before you leave, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Roxas slumps a little. He was hoping for more than that, but go figure that Axel would choose to be a responsible adult  _ now _ . He watches Naminé and Olette ring Ansem up and only moves when the door to the hall opens. 

Vanitas lifts his phone and shows it to Ansem. “Two hours,” he says. “You have two damn hours and then I’m getting back to my life.” He hits the button and the numbers start to count down.

Ansem just laughs and pulls him closer with an arm around his shoulders. “Then let’s get going! Thank you, bakery staff, for your assistance.” He grabs the bag with his other hand and strides toward the door, dragging Vanitas with him.

The last thing Roxas can see of them is Vanitas rolling his eyes and cracking a smile. “Huh,” he says.

“That was so weird.” Olette slumps onto the counter beside him. “What just happened?”

“I believe we met Vanitas’s older brother. One of two actually.” Naminé arches an eyebrow. “And I think we better call Sora later and make sure that Ms. Hikari is alright.”

Roxas waves a hand. “Like they could do anything to her. She’d throw them out herself. She raised Sora, remember?”

Naminé hums. “True. Still...they seem like a lot.” Olette nods.

“I wonder if we could find them…” Roxas pulls his phone out. “Axel said something about instagram.”

“Cyber stalking is rude,” Naminé says, but Olette is already looking over Roxas’s shoulder. Naminé sighs. “We’re still at work. At least save it for once we’re off.”

That’s true. Isa could come check on them all at any time and he would so pull a teacher and confiscate Roxas’s phone. With a huff, Roxas pockets it. “All we can do is guess until then. Olette?”

She taps her chin. “I’m thinking...model, the kind who never has a shirt on or all the way closed. Lots of beach photography.”

Roxas snorts. “Yeah? Maybe he’s an assassin. Vanitas is secretive enough.”

“He’s awful loud for an assassin…”

“As are the two of you.” Axel has stuck his head through the kitchen swinging door with a frown. “Ansem works for his dad’s business. It’s boring soulless work. Unlike this job which you guys love. So, stop gossiping or I’ll let Isa bring out the cleaning list.”

Naminé smirks at the two of them. “Of course, Axel. They’ll drop it.”

“Thank you, Naminé.” Axel points a finger at Roxas and Olette and disappears again.

Roxas leans in to whisper to Olette. “Nude model and he has pictures with Axel.”

She bursts into loud laughter and covers her mouth with her hands to try and muffle it. Naminé sighs, but Roxas cracks up a minute later. Sure, it’s probably not true, but that’s what makes it fun. After a bit, Roxas moves onto other things, except for one thought that lingers: Has he ever actually seen Vanitas smile?


	16. Chapter 16

“You drove the convertible.” Vanitas can’t even find it in himself to be surprised. Looking at the bright red thing, it practically screams Ansem. He looks at the man in the driver’s seat. “I expect better from you.”

Xemnas shrugs. “He doesn’t get many reasons to drive it in places where he won’t get speeding tickets.”

“I am standing right here and not a dog that needs walking. Get in.” Ansem pushes Vanitas toward the car. “Xemnas, move.”

“I’m driving to the house. Traffic has gotten worse and I assumed you would be distracted talking to Vanitas.”

Vanitas sighs and climbs over the side into the back seat. “Vanitas had work, thank you for ruining that.”

Ansem swings into the passenger's seat and digs into the bakery bag. “You’ll survive. It’s Axel; there’s no way that he’s a strict boss. Xemnas.” He offers his twin one of the cookies. “Everything in there smelled amazing. Fuck my diet.”

Xemnas starts the car, gesturing for Vanitas to buckle up. “You wanted to come. I told you it wasn’t a good idea.”

“Yeah, no  _ shit. _ ” Vanitas kicks the back of Xemnas’s seat. “How are you explaining this one? I am not having him show up next.”

It had hit him like ice water when Ansem shouted from the front.  _ Here, they were here. _ He had known that it didn’t necessarily mean, that Ansem wouldn’t have-. But he had been braced for another voice to follow. None did; it’s just Ansem and Xemnas. It doesn’t stop the anxiety curling tight around his shoulders, hooking its claws into his skin as he waits for the pain that should follow. He likes it a lot more when Blob hops up there and does the same.

Xemnas looks at him in the rearview mirror. “A business trip. There’s always something to check in on and I got Ansem out of his hair at the same time. He should thank me, as usual.”

“Lack of hair,” Ansem mutters. “If he didn’t want me annoying him, then he shouldn’t expect me to work in the damn business.” He takes a bite of the cookie and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Holy  _ shit _ , maybe I should date Axel again.”

Backing onto the road, Xemnas focuses on the traffic. “I’m reasonably sure that he and Isa are partners in business if not entirely in romance again. Stay out of it.”

“You’re just sour because Isa dumped you.” Ansem twists around to look at Vanitas. “So, what happened?”

Vanitas does not slump in his seat, because he’s not thirteen anymore when he could really get away with “surly teenager.” He does cross his arms and scowl, because  _ that _ is timeless. “I moved in with my mom for the summer. That’s it.”

“Bullshit.” Ansem takes another bite of the cookie. His hair is starting to flap around as they actually move. It won’t last long as they immediately hit mid-afternoon beach and boardwalk traffic. “If you wanted to stick it to him and not do another fucking summer internship, sure, but you would have told me. You would have told  _ us _ . Not this disappearing act where Xemnas is pretending he’s not worried about if you’re dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“I knew he was still alive,” Xemnas says.

Ansem rolls his eyes. “Sure. Vanitas, what happened?”

“I am not having this conversation in the car in beach traffic.” Vanitas scowls at him. “I wanted a summer off from everything. Leave me alone.” Okay, maybe surly teenager is hard to let go of when it comes to dealing with his brothers.

“No one’s here to overhear. You want me to ask again in front of your mom?” Ansem arches an eyebrow. The effect is somewhat ruined by him taking another bite of his cookie a second later.

Vanitas exhales through his nose. “I explained things to her, and  _ no _ , you can’t ask her instead. I just…I needed away, okay?” He couldn’t take it, couldn’t take waiting for the next ax to fall. He fucked it all up and the inevitable consequences.... It was too much. He took the only way out he had, and it meant leaving everyone in the dark. But wasn’t that safer? This...this feels like he could turn a corner and find the old man waiting.

Ansem is watching him, sunglasses still perched on top of his hair. He’s always been ridiculous, but Vanitas looks away rather than see the depths waiting in his eyes. The three of them match, all done up in a brown that wants to be gold, but Ansem’s shift the most in shade. Vanitas hunches into the seat a bit more and stares at the buildings they’re slowly moving past.

The leather of the seat creaks slightly as Ansem faces forward again. Vanitas presses his lips together and then closes his eyes.  _ There. You don’t really need to know. I fucked up  _ **_as usual_ ** _. _

Xemnas clears his throat. “So...did you see Isa?”

Ansem barks a laugh. “And I’m the hopeless one? Tell me you don’t still talk to him.”

“I have spoken to him only a couple of times! I wanted to know that he was well.”

“You’re a fucking disaster. You give me shit about Chad, but you still pin after  _ Isa. _ ”

Xemnas sighs like he regrets his entire existence. “Never mind. Vanitas, is it a left or right onto Wesley?”

“Left,” Vanitas answers, opening his eyes again. “Please tell me you guys didn’t double date my bosses.”

Ansem snickers. “Like Xemnas would deign to let me be out to dinner with him. Also, Axel was trying to distract himself from Isa, so...that would have been weird.” He flicks his sunglasses back down over his eyes.

“We are no longer talking about this,” Xemnas says flatly, slowing to a stop at the light.

Vanitas leans forward between their seats, smirking at Xemnas. “No? I didn’t ask them since I wasn’t sure it was the same Axel that Ansem told me about, but now that I know…”

“Shit, Axel will tell you all the stories about Xemnas. He hates him.” Ansem smirks and leans closer to Vanitas. “We’re the lesser of two evils, dear brother.”

Xemnas does not look at them. He stares up at the light and doesn’t twitch. The only sign of his frustration is the stiff hold of his jaw. Ansem pokes him in the cheek. “Should I tell him of the soppy poetry you wanted to share with him?”

“I will crash your precious car and leave you to bleed out under its shell.” Xemnas turns into Ansem’s finger, glaring at him like he can set him on fire through pure mental power.

Vanitas bursts into laughter, Ansem right beside him. Xemnas glares at both of them and then turns back to the road. “Perhaps I’ll drive into the ocean instead. Leave you all to become one with the fish.”

“I could be a merman. I have exactly the body for luring men to their deaths.” Ansem pats his chest. “Try it, I dare you.”

“I still have work. Don’t do it to me because you want him dead.” Vanitas points a thumb at Ansem and then sits back. “Next intersection is the one you want.”

“Thank you,” Xemnas says, shooting his twin another look. “It is a shame that you do not have a single bone of shame in your body. I have just as much dirt on you and you do not even care.”

Ansem shrugs.

Xemnas rolls his eyes and gets them moving again as the light changes. “Vanitas, when do you need to be at work again? I assume a deal was worked out for you to leave early.”

“You’ve got two hours. We have a special order to finish for tomorrow.” Vanitas stretches his arms over his head and then slumps back against the seat. As they cross the intersection, he sees someone with blond hair looking his way. They’re moving away too quickly for him to tell, but it almost looks like Ventus. Vanitas smirks to himself and looks up at the sky. If it was Ventus, he can only imagine the sour look on his face.

“-bake like Axel, you’re never allowed to live too far from me,” Ansem is saying. “Your stuff is good, Vanitas, but I think he’s adding in faerie tears or something. That was amazing.”

Vanitas snorts. “Yeah, sure. I’ll work on perfecting my faerie tear harvesting. I’m sure Mom knows a humane way.”

_ Ridiculous, but...they’re the best of the only family he’s ever had. _

* * *

Vanitas is riding around town in a bright red convertible and laughing at everyone as he does it. “I knew he was a rich prick, but wow! That’s really pushing it!” Ven glares down the street where the car disappeared, still stuck on the way Vanitas had looked his direction and  _ smirked. _ Fucking  _ jerk. _ So he’ll play nice and solemn at Axel’s, but the second he’s out and around, he’s back to being the same person Ven knew in college. What a faker.

“Your ice cream is melting,” Ienzo points out, using his spoon to point at Ven’s cup. “Who’s Vanitas again?”

Ven sighs and turns back to his two scoops of cookie dough and hot fudge. He jabbed the top several times with his spoon.  _ This _ is why having Vanitas around is bad for his happiness. What if he had broken the bottom out? “This jerk from college. He was so shitty when I had some personal stuff happen that I honestly almost fought him in one of our classes.”

Ienzo’s more visible eyebrow lifts. “You?”

“Me. It was  _ really shitty _ , okay?” Ven takes a bit and tries to let the sweetness chase away the much more sour feelings. It works, somewhat. “And now he’s here, working at Axel’s, and generally being around! This is my home, why the heck is he here?”

“For work,” Ienzo offers. “Same reason I am.”

“Your parents live here.” Ven rolls his eyes. “Your paycheck is more like a fancy allowance.”

“I’m  _ twenty-one _ . I don’t get an allowance anymore.” Ienzo sticks his tongue out and then shoves his spoon in his mouth, definitely not sort-of pouting. Ven snorts at him.

People ask Ven sometimes how he came to have so many friends that are older than him. He’s not sure, but then he’s never really thought about it that way. Terra is his brother, Aqua was Terra’s friend first, but then becoming friends with each other was natural. Ienzo’s only a couple years older than him and they both grew up here. That’s how friends get made. The only weird friendships he’ll cop to are his friendships with Axel and Isa. They were adults when they moved here, but Ven couldn’t  _ not _ ask them about the bakery they were opening up and also how much sugar Axel used in his best recipes.

Guh, sugar, right. He’ll have to check his after he finishes eating this. Ven sighs down at his ice cream. “The things I do for love.”

“Is that why he infuriates you? You have a crush on him?”

“What?!” Ven’s head snaps back up. “Vanitas? Are you  _ joking? _ ”

Ienzo arches his eyebrow again. “No? That is what we were talking about and then you bring up love. That’s a logical leap to make.”

Ven’s cheeks go red. “I was talking to the ice cream. I think I’d rather eat sand for the rest of my life than be in a relationship of any kind with  _ Vanitas. _ ” He spits the name. “He’s the worst person I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Then he said something truly terrible to you...and you luckily never met Professor Adlebern.” Ienzo tucks the ends of his bangs behind his ear, safe from falling into his ice cream. “There is a man that is completely unforgivable.”

“Because he gave you a B or something, didn’t he?” Ven sets his spoon in his cup and rubs the redness from his cheeks. He is done thinking about Vanitas. Asshole can live here and ride in some fancy convertible and  _ smirk _ , but he doesn’t get to live in Ven’s thoughts all the time. He takes a breath and lets it out slowly.

“-has no respect for experimentation, but yes, you and everyone else boil it down to one less than perfect grade.” Ienzo is glaring at him. “At least Erik knows what I’m talking about.”

“Doesn’t Even?”

Ienzo makes a face. “If I bring up anyone he knows from the university and doesn’t like, he tends to cut the flowers right off their stems. The only thing worse is mentioning ‘M’ in his hearing.”

Ven smiles slightly. “Did he ever fix that gouge in the wall behind the counter?”

“He thinks it’s a mark of pride. He would, considering he’s the one who made it.”

“Good thing Laurium knows how to dodge,” Ven says with a laugh. “Your dad has a lot of fights for a florist.”

Ienzo sighs and scoops a world-weary spoonful of ice cream. “For someone who used to be icy to everyone, he has the temper of a man standing on a cliff edge. Let’s talk about something less depressing. When do you get to start your new major classes?”

Ven brightens, sitting up straighter. “Right this fall. I thought about cramming in a six-week course last semester, but it seemed like it’d be tough when I wasn’t dropping any other courses. I was going over the course listings before the semester ended and I’m kind of hoping one of the older courses specifically on constellations through history comes back. They haven’t held it for almost two years, but the professor is still on active staff, so I’m hoping they can hold it again.”

Right, it’s better to be excited about what’s coming. He doesn’t need to think about the past. Terra’s health scare, Vanitas, and all the rest can stay in the past where they belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Vanitas's brothers visit train has no brakes. We'll continue with them in the next chapter as well, so I hope you're enjoying it! Thanks to everyone who reads, kudos, and comments on this fic!


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